


Camp Half-Wit

by goesonfordaes



Category: EXO (Band), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Emotional Constipation, M/M, The End of the World, Various monsters - Freeform, cool weapons cool powers, hijinks and shenanigans galore, mischievous hermes kid bbh, pjo au!, sweet summer child apollo kid jongdae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goesonfordaes/pseuds/goesonfordaes
Summary: So, Baekhyun's a demigod. That's pretty cool. What's not cool is the annoying Apollo kid, Jongdae, and his irritatingly perfect, gorgeous face and sunshine-bright personality.Also, the end of the world. That's a definite bummer.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 27
Kudos: 98





	1. Baekhyun Outruns a Giant Pincushion

**Author's Note:**

> ok i'm super excited for this fic because i had a lot of fun writing it! thank you to the incomparably wonderful julia (xiseoks) for beta-ing this for me and the gcs for putting up with my whining and helping me come up with ideas for this and make microdecisions for me
> 
> it'll have four chapters and update each tuesday, with the last going up on 4/21
> 
> there are now three spin-off chapters coming at undetermined dates too :)
> 
> i hope you have just as much fun reading it as i had writing it! :3

Baekhyun is perched on the roof of the Apollo cabin, a wicked smile on his face and bucket of water in his hands, when Jongdae asks, “What are you doing up there?”

Baekhyun screeches, nearly losing his balance and tumbling off. “Mr. D’s saggy pants, Jongdae! Give a guy some warning, alright?” 

Jongdae just grins up at him, bright as ever and totally unrepentant. Baekhyun blinks, startled by the sheer starpower emanating from those pearly whites. He pays for that slipup when his foot slips (haha) on a shingle, sending him careening down in the most awkward, not suave, could-not-be-twisted-into-cool-parkour way. By some miracle, he manages to land on his feet. 

“10/10 landing,” Jongdae says, clapping his hands, and Baekhyun wrinkles his face.

“Shut up, loser. Like you could do any better.” Of course, then he takes a step forward onto the discarded pail. Flailing, he slams hard enough into the sodden ground that all the breath in his lungs leaves in a giant  _ whumph. _ “Oh, man,” he wheezes, coughing, before Jongdae’s face pops into view above him. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, eyebrows creased.

“I’m good,” Baekhyun croaks, sitting up.

“Oh, you’re soaked! And you’ve got mud all over your back. At least let me help you clean up,” Jongdae offers, hand held out.

Baekhyun considers it for a moment, before taking it, his long fingers easily wrapping around Jongdae’s small, calloused palm. Jongdae probably wouldn’t be so willing to help if he knew the person Baekhyun had planned on drenching was him. “You know, this still won’t make me like you, Kim,” Baekhyun grumbles, allowing Jongdae to pull him up with more strength than Baekhyun thought he was capable of.

“I know,” Jongdae replies easily, flashing him another smile.

Baekhyun hadn’t meant to hate Jongdae. 

When he first arrives at camp, with only a ratty sweatshirt and the phone that had died two miles back clenched in his hand, he’s scared out of his wits and near delirious from lack of sleep. Some  _ thing  _ has been following him since Brooklyn, a nightmarish creature bleeding out of the shadows in the alleys, and Baekhyun hasn’t stopped running since, following his gut towards Long Island. It’s on his heels as he stumbles forwards, warm breath blowing across the back of his neck. Scrambling up the hill, he squints at the pine tree with a...was that a varsity jacket? draped over a branch, when something grabs his leg and  _ pulls.  _

Baekhyun lets out a cry as he loses his balance, face slamming into the ground and scraping painfully against the soil as he is wrenched backwards. Managing to turn around, his breath catches in his throat as he gets a good look at what has been tracking him: a giant wolf, so dark its fur seems to absorb sunlight, with blood-red eyes and yellow, dangerously sharp teeth. Teeth that were currently embedded in the fabric of his jeans. 

Baekhyun freezes for a second, before frantically trying to grab anything he can to stop it. Everytime his fingers scrape something, the animal just yanks him again, dragging him back towards the shadows. As its hindlegs enter the shade of an evergreen, it starts melting into mist, taking Baekhyun along with it. Squeezing his eyes shut, Baekhyun just starts hysterically tossing up prayers to deities left and right. If this is the end, he better end up somewhere nice.

Then there’s a weird buzzing twang and the wolf yelps, letting go of his leg. Opening his eyes in shock, Baekhyun sees a golden arrow stuck in its forehead. There’s another twang and then one appears in its side. That’s when Baekhyun remembers to get up and start running again, back up the hill in the direction of the arrows. He gets halfway up before the wolf shakes off its pain and starts bounding after him.

Baekhyun screeches and forces his aching muscles to move faster. His feet scramble for purchase, sending him sliding back a few meters, and Baekhyun has just resigned himself to becoming kibbles and bits when a hand grabs him and yanks him forwards, grip just a little too tight around his wrist. 

“Come on!” the kid pants, and Baekhyun looks up to be greeted with the prettiest boy he’s ever seen, all golden hair and lips charmingly curled upwards. 

Baekhyun figures this is better than being dead meat, so he follows him.

“We just need to get past that tree,” the kid says, gesturing forwards, and Baekhyun nods furiously. The boy looks back and curses in a language Baekhyun can’t place, shoving Baekhyun behind him before whipping out an arrow and drawing his bow. “Keep going!” he shouts as he lets the arrow fly, the wolf whimpering and withdrawing as it finds its mark. 

“What about you?” Baekhyun asks, digging his fingers into the kid’s arm. 

“I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” he responds, not even pausing his movements as he turns to give Baekhyun a wide grin. 

Baekhyun hesitates for a moment before listening and continuing up the slope. Once he passes the pine tree with the varsity jacket, there’s a weird rippling and suddenly the jacket isn’t a jacket anymore but some sort of furry golden cloth. In front of him, there’s a white gateway standing proudly at the top of the hill, the words “Camp Half-Blood” emblazoned on the top.

“What the fuck,” Baekhyun whispers to himself, before turning back to see the kid, true to his word, slowly following, constantly laying a barrage of arrows at the hound. It looks kind of like a pin cushion at this point. A very angry pincushion, intent on ripping out his new friend’s throat. As a last ditch effort, it lunges forward just as the guy breaks into an all out sprint, throwing himself across the border of the pine tree as the wolf snaps its jaws shut. 

The animal bounces off of some sort of clear shield, the area of impact shaking but holding strong. It tries again, being repelled each time, before giving up and just growling at them as it stalks around the perimeter. 

“That was close,” the kid says, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’m Jongdae, by the way.” He sticks out a hand with a friendly, gleaming smile, giving Baekhyun a glimpse of slightly crooked bottom teeth as they shake hands. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Uh huh,” is all Baekhyun manages to get out, before he pitches backwards, the world going all fuzzy. The last thing he remembers is Jongdae’s face coming into view, faintly glowing golden and his eyebrows drawn together in concern as he talks to Baekhyun, but Baekhyun can’t hear him. Then his eyes slide shut, and he can’t see him either. 

Baekhyun wakes up to sunlight shining straight in his face and birds pleasantly chirping. “Ugh,” he manages to grunt, disgusted by how foul the inside of his mouth tastes and how gritty his skin feels. 

“You’re awake!” a vaguely familiar voice exclaims, and then Jongdae is leaning into view, lips and eyes curled upwards and sounding way too delighted. 

“I wish I wasn’t,” Baekhyun grumbles, but Jongdae just laughs as he walks to the door of whatever room he’s in.

“Hey Yixing!” he calls out. “Our newest camper is awake!”

Another guy, with a sweetly smiling face but no-nonsense demeanor, comes in and crouches by the cot Baekhyun is in, laying a hand on his forehead and closing his eyes. Apparently satisfied with whatever he senses, he hums and stands back out. “I don’t think he needs anymore ambrosia or nectar. He seems good to go. Good work, Jongdae.” Looking at Baekhyun, his eyes crinkle as he waves by the doorway of the cabin. “I’m Yixing, by the way. It’s nice to have you around, Baekhyun.”

Jongdae swells a bit at the praise, before turning back to Baekhyun. “You wanna get up and see what this is all about?”

“Do I have a choice?” Baekhyun asks suspiciously.

Jongdae’s smile only grows wider. “Not really.”

With that, Baekhyun heaves another sigh and sits up, allowing Jongdae to help him stand up on slightly wobbly legs. As he steps out squinting into the sunlight, his eyes widen. There’s a semicircle of weird cabins laid out, one with plants looking like they’re trying to engulf the place, another with a crappy red paint job and even crappier rock music blaring from it, and yet another looking like a steampunk’s wet dream, with gears and chimneys belching smoke. Beyond that, there was a whole bunch of buildings that looked like they had been stolen from the pages of a Greek history book and dumped off here--an open air theater, an arena--shining white, along with more normal things, like a volleyball pit and a lake where canoes peacefully float, and a large sky blue farmhouse. In the distance, the ocean glimmered, the smell of salt water floating in with the wind. 

“What is this place?” Baekhyun breathes out.

Jongdae is leaning against the railing of the porch, breeze gently waving his blonde hair and eyes closed as he tilts his head up towards the sun. Smiling contentedly, he responds, “It’s called Camp Half-Blood. It’s a safe space for people like you and me and all the people who live in those other cabins.”

“What do you mean, people like you and me? Other Asians?” Baekhyun asks with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

Jongdae laughs again, cracking an eye open. “Other demigods.”

Baekhyun nods again, trying not to freak out. 

“Don’t worry, the orientation film should explain everything,” Jongdae reassures him. 

The orientation film did not explain everything. Neither did the centaur dressed like a middle-aged liberal arts professor. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ I’m a demigod?” Baekhyun asks Jongdae, jogging after him. “This isn’t just some extremely detailed hallucination I’m having?”

“Trust me, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says with a grin. “I’ve been expecting you. You’re the first demigod to be able to make it here in a while.” Seeing the confused look Baekhyun gives him, he explains, “Precognition. One of Apollo’s gifts. Is there anything you’re weirdly good at? Might help us figure out who your godly parent is.”

“Uh...I’m pretty good at singing, I think?” Baekhyun offers. 

Jongdae brightens. “That’s one of Apollo’s gifts! Maybe we’re brothers.”

For some reason, that thought doesn’t sit well with Baekhyun. 

“Have you ever experienced any more of Apollo’s gifts?” Jongdae continues. “Weirdly good at healing scrapes? Ever known something from your shelf will fall a second before it does? Anyone you’ve been mad at been unable to speak in anything but rhymes for the rest of the week?”

“Nope,” Baekhyun says, shaking his head. “I hold some track records at my high school? I don’t know, I feel pretty average.” He doesn’t mention how good he is at pickpocketing, or at persuading people to hand over whatever he wants. Those don’t exactly seem like demigod approved skills.

Jongdae tilts his head slightly, eyebrows bowing upwards. “Hmm. Speed fits for a few gods. We’ll see if any of the other camp activities reveal anything else.” They stop in front of a worn log cabin, with a weird snake/staff thing over the doorway. “In the meantime, this is where you’ll be staying: the Hermes cabin.”

“Did someone say Hermes?” two voices chorus, before nearly identical kids skid out onto the porch. As they grin down at Baekhyun, mischief flashing in their blue eyes, Baekhyun relaxes, recognizing kindred spirits. The slightly taller one bounds down the stairs, stopping before Baekhyun and stretching out a hand. “I’m Travis, I’m one half of this dynamic counselor duo. The geek behind me is Connor.”

Connor swats Travis, starting a scuffle on the lawn. “I think you’ll like it here,” Jongdae says, patting Baekhyun on the shoulder. 

“Precognition again?” Baekhyun asks jokingly.

Jongdae grins. “Not this time. Just a hunch.”

Yixing steps out on the Apollo cabin porch then, hollering, “Jongdae! Hurry up or you’ll be late for advanced archery with Chiron!”

“Coming!” Jongdae yells back, momentarily deafening Baekhyun. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Controlling sound waves is--”

“Another gift of Apollo. Yeah, I guessed,” Baekhyun finishes, winking at Jongdae. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Jongdae stares at him for a second, blush staining the tops of his cheekbones, before stammering, “I hope so!” and beating a quick path back to the Apollo cabin.

“That was weird,” Connor and Travis say in tandem behind him, and Baekhyun jumps.

“Christ, that was creepy. Give a guy some warning next time!” he exclaims.

“We’ll try not to,” Connor responds with a shit-eating grin. 

Leading Baekhyun into the cabin, they point out the overly crowded space as all the kids crammed inside turn to look at him, sizing him up like they’re ready to take him down at a moment’s notice. If this cabin had a maximum occupancy sign, it would be at least twenty people over. “Baekhyun, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Baekhyun.”

“Regular or undetermined?” a girl with straw-colored hair pulled into two messy braids asks. 

“Undetermined,” Travis answers, and a groan goes up among the campers. 

“Now, now!” Connor says, putting on a paternalistic air. “This is the Hermes cabin! Hospitality is our middle name.”

“We just take in everyone who doesn’t know who their godly parent is. Hermes is the god of travelers, after all,” Travis explains. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll find out by the end of the week. Some of the gods are pretty good at claiming us. Until then, you can take that hammock. I found you some toiletries and a new shirt too.”

“What about the others that aren’t so good?” Baekhyun asks. 

Travis hesitates. “Some of them are really bad. Time isn’t the same for them, and they just...forget.” He smiles again, slightly crooked. “But you’ll always have a place here,” he promises.

As the week goes on, Baekhyun gets thrown into a bunch of activities to try and figure out his parent. The problem, he seems decent at just about everything. The only thing he’s slightly more than decent at is foot racing, and even then he struggles sometimes to keep pace with the wood nymph instructors.

“Jack of all trades, huh?” Connor notes one day. “Way to live up to the cabin motto.”

“Guess so,” Baekhyun pants, having narrowly avoided getting scorched by the lava rock wall. Still, it’s not all bad. He’s got some friends--Chanyeol, the overly happy kid from the Hephaestus cabin that almost dropped an anvil on Baekhyun’s head, Kyungsoo, who just hangs out by the fire pit in the center of the cabin circle but is pretty fun to talk to, and Jongin, the sweet Aphrodite kid who likes to tag around with Yixing and mumble things in French under his breath. And of course, there’s Jongdae. But that’s not unique.

Jongdae is one of those people that everyone is drawn to, bringing them into his orbit like the miniature sun he is. Still, he always makes time for Baekhyun, helping him through the first few confusing weeks of camp and making sure he doesn’t end up with a spear through his stomach during the first game of capture the flag. 

And when Baekhyun joins Connor and Travis in hijacking the Ares cabin loudspeakers to play nothing but Caramelldansen for the next two days and a glowing caduceus appears above his head as they run away from Clarisse and her goons, Jongdae is the first person to give him a hug. 

So really, Baekhyun should’ve expected it. Should’ve expected that Jongdae would make his heart beat too fast and his palms grow sweaty and cause him to trip over his own feet and make him speak some weird mix of Greek and English whenever he got too nervous. Baekhyun hates it, how Jongdae can catapult him out of his skin and make him some weird alter-version of Baekhyun that doesn’t feel comfortable with who he is. It’s detestable, really. 

Baekhyun’s always been good at running, so that’s just what he does. Baekhyun starts ducking around corners when he hears Jongdae’s laughter, ringing loud and clear, or walking super fast when he hears Jongdae call his name, so he can pretend like he didn’t hear him, sound wave manipulation be damned. 

It’s unfair, is what it is. He’s incandescent, skin glowing and hair a soft, warm gold, with a smile so radiant it hurts Baekhyun’s eyes and a personality to match. Kind and generous to a fault, always ready to help or soothe feelings, and never willing to say a bad word about anyone, even Clarisse. When they have the sing-alongs on Friday nights, his voice rises high and pure above everyone else’s, rivalling all of the nymphs combined (but don’t let them hear that Baekhyun said that). Jongdae is so perfect he’s irritating, grating on Baekhyun’s nerves every time he catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye or a mocking echo of his voice. Baekhyun could go on and on about all the reasons he hates Kim Jongdae. 

“I don’t know about that,” Chanyeol says, sander coming down on the metal below with a whir and a shower of sparks. 

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun yelps, throat sore from yelling over the din in the forge for the past two hours. 

Chanyeol plunges the faintly glowing sword into the water, steam hissing all around. Wiping sweat and soot off his brow, he stares down at the bubbling water. “I just mean it doesn’t sound like you hate him. At all. Sounds to me like you like him. Does our Baekhyunnie have a crush?”

“All this time in here has starved any sort of brain power you have because I clearly hate Jongdae very much,” Baekhyun protests. “He’s my mortal enemy!”

Chanyeol raises an incredulous eyebrow, grabbing the metal and moving around Baekhyun to put it back in the fire. “Last night you literally told him, ‘You good’ in Greek and ran away.”

Baekhyun resists the urge to stamp his foot, but it’s a near thing. “Well, that was last night. Clearly you don’t believe me, so I’ll just have prove to you how much I hate him!”

Chanyeol grins, the gleam of his teeth faintly predatory in the shifting light of the forge. “We’ll see about that.”

As he stomps off, ears still ringing, Baekhyun mutters to himself, trying to come up with a way to prove to  ~~ himself ~~ Chanyeol that he hates Jongdae.

“Hey Baekhyun!” Jongdae calls out, bow in hand and quiver strapped over his shoulder. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? You want to come to target practice with me?”

“I hate you!” Baekhyun blurts out, hoping the sentence is at least in English, continuing past Jongdae and ignoring the concerned look Jongdae gives him. How inconsiderate of Jongdae to try and derail his master vengeance plan. He won’t be distracted by Jongdae’s biceps or that sexy look he gets when he’s concentrating hard on something. No sir. Just another reason Jongdae is the  _ worst.  _

Maybe if he comes up with enough reasons, he’ll convince himself it’s true. And maybe one day, Jongdae will learn to leave Baekhyun alone so his chest doesn’t squeeze painfully and his throat doesn’t constrict at the false hope that, maybe, one day, Jongdae might like him back. 

Still, that’s hard to remember how much he hates Jongdae when he’s digging around in his drawers for a shirt for him. None of his pranks go his way. All they do is remind him of how amazing Jongdae is, and all Jongdae seems to do is get nicer the more they happen. Loathsome. First there had been the time when Baekhyun had shaved down the spine of Jongdae’s arrows, trying to make them less accurate, but by some twist of fate they had only become more accurate, leading to Jongdae’s profuse thanks. Then, the time during capture the flag when Baekhyun had borrowed (stolen) Annabeth Chase’s invisibility cap and tried to trip Jongdae, only to save him from being accidentally impaled by an arrow shot by one of Demeter’s kids. Just last week, he had managed to enchant Jongdae’s lyre so it was horribly, irrevocably out of tune, but turns out that was acapella week. And now, this. 

Lost in memories, Baekhyun nearly misses Jongdae saying, “I think this one should fit,” as he holds out a soft forest green tee with a faded daisy printed on the front. 

“Thanks,” Baekhyun mutters, reaching out his hands, when Jongdae gasps and draws back. 

“You’re hurt!” he exclaims, throwing the shirt back in his chest and immediately going to yank out his first aid kit.

Baekhyun frowns, looking down at his palms to see a few bloody scrapes, probably from the shingles. “I’m fine, Jongdae.”

“At least let me bandage you up. You fell off my roof, after all. I feel responsible,” Jongdae begs with his puppy dog eyes. 

Baekhyun snorts. “That doesn’t even make any sense.” Still, he lets Jongdae rip open an antiseptic wipe.

“Sure it does. Besides, even demigods can get tetanus,” Jongdae retorts, cradling Baekhyun’s hands carefully as he kneels to thoroughly clean the wounds. A few band-aids later, and Baekhyun’s as good as new. 

“Thanks, Jongdae,” Baekhyun says quietly, and Jongdae tilts his face up, smiling gently. 

“Of course, Baekhyun.” The sunset bathes the white walls of the Apollo cabin in warm orange and pink, coloring Jongdae like one of Monet’s paintings, so pretty and delicate that Baekhyun’s chest hurts. Unconsciously, he reaches his hand out, wanting to wind a strand of Jongdae’s hair around his finger. Jongdae’s smile never wavers, until Baekhyun feels like the air is too thick to breathe and he yanks his hand back, breaking the stillness of the moment.

“Can I have that shirt now?” Baekhyun asks, coughing and glancing away.

“Oh. Oh, of course!” Jongdae exclaims, jumping up. Clearly flustered, his hands flutter at his side as he shoves the tee into Baekhyun’s arms, back turned to give him some privacy. 

Discarding his now torn orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, Baekhyun slips Jongdae’s shirt on and revels in the way it smells like him--clean linen and sage, with a hint of citrus lurking. “I’ll make sure to wash this before I give it back,” he promises, getting off of Jongdae’s mattress and standing up.

“No rush,” Jongdae says, slightly breathless. 

Feeling slightly awkward, Baekhyun waves before ducking out of the doorway. “Guess I’ll be on my way then. Thanks again.”

“Wait--Baekhyun!” Jongdae calls out, scrambling after him. Baekhyun’s heart leaps as Jongdae stands on the porch, clearly struggling with himself, before simply saying, “Be careful if you decide to climb any more roofs.”

“I will,” Baekhyun promises, shooting Jongdae a crooked grin before heading back to the Hermes cabin before dinner.

“That Jongdae’s shirt?” Chanyeol asks, lazing on the grass by Kyungsoo’s feet. Kyungsoo pinches his shoulder, making Chanyeol yelp, but it doesn’t get rid of his shit-eating grin. 

“So what if it is?” Baekhyun growls, foul mood coalescing around him like dark clouds in a thunderstorm as Chanyeol laughs at him. Even Kyungsoo, that traitor, is stifling a grin behind his hand. It doesn’t stop him from carefully washing and folding the shirt, leaving it on the Apollo cabin porch the next day in the watery dawn light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know hestia is one of the virgin goddesses but for the sake of this fic let's just say she pulled an athena and willed kyungsoo into being


	2. The Team Takes the Worst Field Trip Ever

Turns out, things are never quiet in Camp Half-Blood for long. Baekhyun had been told he missed the big battle at the very beginning of the summer that killed a good number of campers, including the previous head counselor of the Apollo cabin, Lee Fletcher, but there was something stirring. As summer progressed, the air grew oppressively thick and the ocean rumbled, storms raging in the distance without ever coming to land. Apparently there’s been a lot of monsters running around unchecked, explaining the hellhound that chased Baekhyun, as well as the lack of new campers.

Because--get this--Baekhyun has had the incomparable good luck to arrive the summer before an apocalyptic battle where Kronos will rise, crush the gods and civilization as he knows it, and plunge the world back into darkness. Nice.

So he joined a ragtag raiding party, led by Junmyeon, one of Athena’s kids. Then there’s also Chanyeol, who always has some cool new explosive to trial, Kyungsoo, who can apparently control fire, Jongin, who is way better with a sword than any of his other siblings, and finally Yixing and Jongdae as their healers-slash-rearguard-slash-snipers. And Baekhyun? Well, he mostly just runs around really fast stabbing monsters and laying traps in hopes that any of the big uglies they face fall in. 

Which is why he’s currently sprinting as fast as he can away from a horde of dive bombing harpies, cursing the fact that his legs aren’t longer. Turns out harpies don’t like Greek fire, and  _ especially  _ don’t like pesky demigods that lob a ball of it into their hideout.

“Stop moving, I can’t get a good shot!” Jongdae yells at him.

“Can’t really do that at the moment!” Baekhyun shouts back, hitting the floor as another one of those evil lunch lady/dodo bird combos makes a grab for him. She smells bad, like rotting flesh and sulfur, and Baekhyun retches as he stands back up. 

There’s a hiss and then one of Jongdae’s golden arrows appears in her neck, sending her back to Tartarus in a cloud of dust, leaving only her hairnet. 

“Thanks,” Baekhyun calls out in Jongdae’s direction, ducking behind Chanyeol and his newest Celestial bronze armor. 

Jongdae just winks, nocking another arrow. “Celestial bronze tips.”

Chanyeol pretends to gag and Kyungsoo complains, “Stop flirting and help us!” uncapping his lighter and letting a pillar of Hestia-blessed fire (get it 20% off at your local demigod supply store!) move down the alleyway. Turns out, scorched harpy somehow smells even worse than live harpy. 

Sighing, Baekhyun unsheathes his sword, joining Junmyeon and Jongin in their street-level assault of the harpies. They move back to back in a triangle down the way, Celestial bronze blades flashing in the sunlight. 

It doesn’t take them too long to finish cleaning up, the last harpy managing to give Jongin a pretty nasty scratch before Yixing sticks her full of arrows. He leaps down from the fire escape he had been perched on, whipping out a white bandage and wrapping it around Jongin’s arm in a heartbeat. Jongin looks down at him with something akin to hero worship, eyes sparkling and lips parted. 

“You’re okay, right?” Yixing asks gently, and Jongin turns bright red and mumbles something affirmative.

“And you yelled at me for flirting?” Baekhyun mutters under his breath at Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

“At least they’re not emotionally constipated,” Chanyeol argues.

“Who’s emotionally constipated?” Jongdae asks brightly, popping up by them, and Baekhyun shrieks.

“No one!” he exclaims, just as Chanyeol says, “Baekhyun.”

“Break it up, guys,” Junmyeon interrupts, shutting down the fight before it even begins. “We did a good job, but we should move fast to get back to camp before any other monsters get wind of our presence or it gets too dark. I’ve already called Argus, so he should be here any second.”

Sure enough, just as he finishes talking, Argus rolls up in a white van proudly proclaiming “Delphi Strawberry Service”, blinking at them all from the driver’s seat.

“Get in, team,” Junmyeon orders, pulling open the door. 

“I call dibs on the chair!” Baekhyun calls out, dashing forwards and slamming his butt on the single seat in the back. 

“No fair, you got it coming this way too!” Jongdae complains, following him and taking a seat on the floor. 

Baekhyun sticks out his tongue. “You snooze, you lose.”

“Really, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon admonishes from the passenger seat. “You’ve gotten that chair the past three out of four rides. Next time someone else has to get it.”

Baekhyun slumps back into his seat, pouting. When Junmyeon puts his foot down, he means it. “Fine,” he sighs dramatically, making a face as soon as Junmyeon turns around.

“I saw that,” Junmyeon tells him. “Have fun cleaning all the armor when we get back.”

“What?” Baekhyun protests as the rest of the van snickers at him. “That’s not fair! I call abuse of power.”

“Don’t worry, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says sweetly from his position on the floor. “I’ll help you. It’s not so bad with two people.”

“That takes away half the point of the punishment!” Chanyeol protests, but swallows it when Kyungsoo steps on his foot.

Baekhyun swallows nervously. “Thanks Jongdae, but really, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind,” Jongdae replies, leaning against Baekhyun’s legs and using them as a backrest. Baekhyun thinks he might explode right then and there, and his friends will have to write him a mortifying obituary: Byun Baekhyun, 16 year old son of Hermes. Died doing what he loved--freaking out over Kim Jongdae.

He spends the rest of the ride trying not to think about how warm Jongdae feels pressed against him and how he can feel his breath rise and fall, which is a thoroughly taxing endeavor that takes all his brain power. It’s only when they get back to camp and Jongdae stands up that Baekhyun can breathe easily again. Seulgi, another one of Hermes’s kids, waves from the tree she’s sitting in while on lookout, and Baekhyun grins back at her. 

She blows the conch horn to let the camp know they’re coming, before leaning out over the railing of the guardhouse. “Get anything good?” she asks.

“Just a few harpies,” Baekhyun responds. 

Seulgi shrugs, teasing. “Oh well. We can’t all take out a bus full of minions like Beckendorf. Anyway, I would watch out. The Ares and Apollo cabins are kind of-”

Baekhyun doesn’t get to hear the rest of her sentence, because suddenly Jongdae is yelling “Get down!” before tackling him. 

Grunting at Jongdae’s weight, Baekhyun shoves him off and rolls over to see Michael Yew flying over them in a golden chariot drawn by two pegasi. 

“--fighting,” Seulgi finishes.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Baekhyun remarks, but Jongdae frowns. 

“That’s not so sweet,” he says, pointing to the small but persistent fire on the front lawn of the Apollo cabin. 

“What’s that all about?” Baekhyun asks, jerking a thumb in the direction of cursing Ares kids. Determining that they’re out of danger, the rest of the team stands up, brushing each other off. 

“They captured it in a raid today. Technically the Apollo kids got it but the Ares cabin led the raid, so…” Seulgi lets the end of her sentence trail off, letting the bad rhyming couplets in the distance finish it for her.

Jongdae makes a face. “Dad’s poetry is awful,” he mutters under his breath. “This is just as much a curse for us as the Ares kids.” 

Baekhyun snorts, sending up a quick mental apology to Apollo. He’s probably (hopefully) too busy fighting Titans to notice any bad mouthing by some lowly demigod, but it never hurts to be cautious.

Junmyeon just sighs, dragging a hand down his face before heading towards the Big House to hand in his report. “This doesn’t get you out of cleaning!” he reminds Baekhyun. “I better be able to see my face in the metal by the time we go back out on another raid in three days!”

“Why would he even want to see his own face?” Baekhyun pretends to wonder aloud, and the remaining members of the team choke back laughter. 

“Godspeed, soldier,” Chanyeol says with a mock solute, before ambling back towards the Hephaestus cabin. 

The rest of the group peels off, leaving Jongdae and Baekhyun alone just outside the ring of cabins. “I know I told you I’d help, but I don’t think I can anymore,” Jongdae begins with an apologetic look. “I think my cabin might need me.” 

He gestures over to the gleaming structure, and the threatening mob of Ares kids crowded outside, all chanting, “Come out and fight, you little fucks / In your cabin you’re sitting ducks.”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, clapping Jongdae on the back in a show of solidarity. “Have lots of fun with that.”

Jongdae just rolls his eyes, before running after Yixing to go join the rest of his siblings.

Baekhyun grabs the sweaty gym bag full of everyone’s armor, which weighs a ton, thank you for asking, and why no, he didn’t need help carrying it at all, and lugs it towards the storage shed. Scrubbing all that Celestial bronze turns out to be a great stress reliever for overworked and emotionally hamstrung bisexual Asian semi-divine kids--who knew? By the time Baekhyun throws himself into his hammock, he’s at peace. Almost.

Like Junmyeon promised, they assemble again in three days in the Athena cabin, where Junmyeon has spread out a map of the outskirts of Princeton, New Jersey on the table in the middle. The sun, which the Apollo kids always rise with, is high in the sky, but the two of them look beat. Jongdae has dark blue circles under his eyes, occasionally hiding a yawn behind his hand, and even the ever hardworking Yixing drifts off once. 

“You okay?” Baekhyun mouths, nudging Jongdae awake. 

“Being woken up every night by the Ares cabin war trumpets sucks,” Jongdae mumbles in response. 

Junmyeon coughs pointedly, directing their attention back to his map. “Satyrs have been reporting some pretty weird activity out on the edges of New Jersey, especially after dark. Lots of monsters congregating nearby.”

Baekhyun snickers, imagining monsters milling about in a crowd in some sort of convention hall, with stalls selling things like “Top 10 tricks to strike fear into the hearts of demigods!” and “Want to boost your Tartarus credit score? Sign up for this free course!” 

Junmyeon shoots him a dirty look, before continuing, “We’re planning to hit a new busload on their route to wherever their hideout is. Unfortunately, they’ve wised up since the incident with the bus plumbing system, so we’ll have to try and hit them on the move. There’s a few narrow roads that are good, so we’ll hang out on elevated ground. Chanyeol will lob an explosive down, and then the rest of us can pick off any other monsters at will. Sound good?”

The rest of them nod in agreement. Just like the rest of Junmyeon’s plans, it’s quick, effective, and meant to keep them all as safe as possible.

Unfortunately, they didn’t take into account the giant that would be squeezed inside. 

The first inkling Baekhyun got that something was wrong was the size of the bus--it was one of those double-decker tour buses, complete with empousa lounging around on the top with sunglasses on. The second inkling was when Chanyeol’s explosive failed to explode. 

Jongdae shoots an arrow at one of the bus windows, creating a gap large enough for Chanyeol to throw the Greek fire inside. They wait a few moments, ready for the customary  _ boom  _ followed by, you know, fire, but there’s nothing but a piddly stream of smoke. 

Baekhyun looks quizzically at Chanyeol, but Chanyeol just whispers, panicked, “I don’t know!”

And then the monsters start streaming out of the bus, sniffing the air. Doesn’t take them long to locate seven relatively powerful, and therefore relatively stinky, demigods. Still, it’s nothing they shouldn’t be able to handle. 

And then the Laistrygonian giant comes lumbering out. He looks kind of like what Baekhyun thinks a California surfer dude should be, except about three feet taller, hairier, and with yellow, pointed teeth.

“Puny demigods! If you surrender right now I’ll make sure to eat you quickly,” the giant offers.

“Tempting, but I think we’ll have to turn you down,” Baekhyun retorts. 

The Laistrygonian laughs. “You have spirit, little one! I will make sure to tear you limb from limb last.”

And with that, the first swarm of harpies descend.

“Zeus’s  _ nipples,”  _ Baekhyun curses, and unsheathes his sword. It all becomes a blur of slashing and ducking after that, his sword carving a deadly arc through evil snake ladies and part goat part metal girls indiscriminately. Yixing and Jongdae quickly get rid of a good number of harpies, their fat little dodo bodies an easy target for their Celestial bronze arrows. 

Baekhyun takes a moment to breathe and glance over at all his teammates. So far, so good. Then they hear a roar, and the giant comes lumbering over towards them. 

“Fates,” he hears Junmyeon grit out, before leaping away from the iron club that comes crashing down on the spot he had been standing on not a moment before. Baekhyun starts dodging too, getting close enough to land a blow before having to dance back again. He, Junmyeon, and Jongin form their triad again, while the others clean up the other monsters. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jongdae pick off another harpy, completely oblivious to the dracaena coming up behind him, fangs bared, and his heart stops. He doesn’t even think twice, abandoning the fight with the giant and starting to run towards Jongdae, in the futile hope he’ll make it in time. He can’t see Jongdae under a golden burial shroud, not after so many others have been lost too.

_ Come on, Dad. I haven’t asked for anything ever. Help me out, just this one time,  _ he prays, arms reaching out to push Jongdae out of the way. It’s like time slows down--Baekhyun sees the curved blade arc downwards, Jongdae noticing the movement too late and desperately trying to raise his bow to block the strike--and then it speeds up all over again, except this time Baekhyun has got his arms wrapped around Jongdae and they are about sixty feet from where he was previously standing.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae gasps, his fingers digging into Baekhyun’s shoulders. “How…?”

Baekhyun looks back, seeing steam curling off the pavement. A grin works itself onto his face as he breathes out, “Teleportation. A gift from Hermes.” He pumps his fist in the air, dragging Jongdae into a closer hug and jumping up and down. “Oh man, that’s so  _ cool!  _ My siblings are going to be  _ so _ jealous.”

“Uh, Baekhyun?” Jongdae says, voice muffled from being shoved into Baekhyun’s chest. “Maybe celebrate after the battle?”

“Oh, right,” Baekhyun remembers. Then he realizes he’s still clutching Jongdae, and jumps backwards like Jongdae is on fire, face flaming. “I’ll go do that. Yeah.” Stumbling back, he feels his feet pull him forwards, streaking back towards the battle.

He pops up again behind enemy lines, and hefts his sword.  _ Thanks, Dad,  _ he thinks, before carving into some monsters like it’s Thanksgiving and they’re a roast turkey. Jongdae has joined the fight against the Laistrygonian, using sonic arrows to momentarily incapacitate the thing so Junmyeon and Jongin can get a good hit in. Baekhyun keeps a more careful eye on him than normal during the fight, unwilling to have a repeat of earlier. 

“Hey Baekhyun!” Junmyeon asks, withdrawing to let Kyungsoo have a crack at the giant. “Think you can teleport onto its head?”

Baekhyun glances at it, wrinkling his nose. “I mean, I guess?” Baekhyun can’t exactly poof from one place to another--it’s more of a super fast run--but he can probably use the giant’s arm as leverage to pull himself up quick enough without getting squashed like a bug.

“Great. You stab out its eyes and then the rest of us can all pile in,” Junmyeon tells him, before darting off again.

Baekhyun takes a last glance at the giant, before deciding any more thinking would just freak him out, and speeding forwards. Grabbing its forearm, he uses that to push himself up onto its shoulders. From there it’s an easy scramble onto its neck. Sending up another prayer to his dad, Baekhyun locks his legs around its neck, reaches around with his dagger, and plunges it into a giant eyeball. 

The Laistrygonian howls in pain and staggers back, club wildly swinging. Baekhyun digs his hands into its thick, knotted hair and holds on tight, trying not to scream like a little girl as it starts bucking around wildly. The rest of his teammates run around like headless chickens, desperately trying not to get accidentally squashed. Baekhyun spares a fleeting thought for the mortals that are watching this and wonders what this looks like--maybe a dangerous, impromptu carnival ride, or a maybe a troupe of actors reenacting the fight between David and Goliath. 

Baekhyun shrieks as a particularly rough movement nearly sends his sword into his own side. It does, however, have the brilliant side effect of sparking an idea, which is in short supply at the moment. Using the giant’s hair as a sort of rope, Baekhyun leans back so he can see the Laistrygonian’s jugular, right by where his own calf is. 

Baekhyun means to shout something heroic, like “For Olympus!” but instead it comes out as a reedy “Fo duh!” as he plunges the blade into the vein. Blood spurts out, steaming as it hits the ground, and the giant gurgles, crashing to his knees before face-planting into the pavement with a ground-shaking  _ thud _ . 

Baekhyun is flung forwards, rolling onto the concrete in a painful blur of  _ ow knees ow arms ow face  _ until he skids to a halt. 

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae cries out, rushing forwards. “Are you okay?”

Baekhyun stares up at the sky, a dazed expression on his face. “That was awesome,” he sighs, and Junmyeon’s face pops into view.

“Give him some ambrosia,” he orders, and Jongdae rushes to obey, pulling a little square out and shoving it into Baekhyun’s mouth. 

The familiar flavor of pepperoni pizza floods his mouth, and Baekhyun feels energy flow back in and his bruises and scrapes knit back together. Jongdae slips a supportive arm around his shoulder, helping him stand back up. 

“Okay, I’m good to go,” Baekhyun says, stepping back from Jongdae. Jongdae’s grip tightens for a moment, before his arm drops back by his side.

“Good.” Junmyeon takes in a deep breath. “Because now we have to get out of here. More monsters will be coming, they’ll sense us. We’re too close to New Jersey. I’ll call Argus.”

“Junmyeon!” Yixing calls out from where he’s perched, acting as lookout. “Another bus coming in!” He drops from the fire escape, running over to join the rest of the group.

A definitely non-human bus driver stares them down as he drives towards them, forked tongue flickering as he wiggles his claws in a creepy wave. 

“Clearly we don’t have time for Argus!” Baekhyun yelps. Scanning the street, he quickly locates an old car. Pressing his hand against the door, he closes his eyes and senses the mechanisms of the lock, undoing the bolts and throwing himself into the car. It’s a tight fit underneath the steering wheel, but he makes it work, wrenching off the cover and pulling aside one of the wire bundles.

“Baekhyun! What are you doing?” Junmyeon screeches. “We can’t just steal a car!”

“More importantly, why does the back window have a giant sticker saying ‘Luisito’ on it?” Jongin asks, head tilting.

“We’re not stealing it, we’re borrowing it!” Baekhyun argues, stripping some of the insulation off the wires. “Besides, I don’t want to end up as some monster’s lunch.” The wires spark, and Baekhyun shouts in glee, revving the engine a few times to make sure it works before scrambling up into the driver’s seat. “Get in, losers!” he shouts, and his team doesn't argue, cramming in.

“Ow, Kyungsoo, your elbow is in my rib,” Chanyeol complains. 

Kyungsoo grunts, trying to glare up at Chanyeol. “I don’t think you have any right to whine when my head is stuck in your armpit. Did you not put deodorant on this morning?”

Chanyeol squirms. “Fighting monsters is sweaty work!”

“Shut up back there, kids! The grown-ups are talking!” Baekhyun calls out, reaching his hand back to whack his teammate’s knees. 

“We don’t have time, Junmyeon,” Yixing says, reaching from behind Jongin, who’s practically on Yixing’s lap, to pat Junmyeon’s hand. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Junmyeon hesitates for another second, before cramming himself in. Jongdae turns around from the passenger seat, cheerily reminding everyone, “Safety first guys!”

Baekhyun roundly ignores him, flooring the gas and tearing down the street before anyone clicks in their seatbelt. 

_ “Di immortales,  _ Baekhyun!” Junmyeon shouts, grabbing the seat in front of him for security. 

“Sorry!” Baekhyun says, but clearly no one buys it. Maybe it’s because of the wide grin plastered to his face. “Is now a bad time to mention I don’t have a license?”

The entire car groans, with Jongin complaining, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hold onto your barf, Nini!” Baekhyun warns. “It’s going to get a whole lot worse.” 

“What do you mean it’s going to get a whole lot worse….oh,” Jongin starts to say, before blanching. 

“You don’t think they can…” Chanyeol wonders aloud, catching sight of all the monsters disembarking from the second bus. 

“We don’t want to stick around long enough to find out,” Baekhyun says grimly, urging the car forward.

“No,” Jongin breathes out, watching the giant heft the bus before launching it into the air. “There’s no way.”

“Baekhyun, watch out!” Jongdae yells, wrenching the wheel to the right as the Greyhound comes crashing into the pavement twenty feet ahead of them, setting off a wave of wailing car alarms. 

“Clearly, there was a way,” Junmyeon retorts dryly, trying to bury the undercurrent of fear in his voice. 

“Not helpful!” Baekhyun trills, turning right again onto what would normally be a quaint little street he'd love to stroll down. 

“Baekhyun, stop!” Jongdae yells all the sudden, and Baekhyun slams the breaks on instinct, everyone getting thrown forward. There’s a few thumps as Kyungsoo and Jongin hit the seats in front of them, but no head injuries, so Baekhyun counts that as a win.

“Jongdae, what was that?” Junmyeon asks, irritated, but Jongdae isn’t listening. Instead, he dashes back a few stores, to a barbershop where a TV is visible through the window. The rest of them follow, pressing their faces against the glass. What Baekhyun sees makes the breath catch in his throat. A reporter is standing in a Midwestern field, a bank of storm clouds rolling across the horizon. As the camera pans in, Baekhyun can make out a giant, smoky arm reaching out, trying to catch the smaller, bright forms that zip around it. 

“Dad,” Jongdae breathes out, hand pressed against the glass as a golden chariot plunges into the darkness, and that’s when Baekhyun gets it.  _ That’s them. That’s the gods. _

There’s a flash of light, shaking the skies, and Baekhyun has to stop himself from jolting at the power in Zeus's master bolt _.  _ It barely seems to do anything, the smoky figure staggering back a few steps before continuing on. The golden chariot dives back in, a silver chariot next to it, and Jongdae stares desperately at the TV, willing them to reappear. Baekhyun looks for anyone that might look like Hermes, finally spotting it in the fluttering figure holding a staff that lets loose a bolt of light into the cloud. His first glimpse of his father, and it’s when the world is ending. Cool.

“We should get moving,” Junmyeon reminds everyone gently, but his eyes are fastened to the screen too, looking for some sign of his mother. 

“I didn’t see Dad,” Chanyeol murmurs fretfully, folding his legs in the backseat. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kyungsoo says reassuringly, pressing a hand to his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Everyone else has gotten in, but Jongdae is still at the barbershop window. Junmyeon opens his mouth to call for him, but Baekhyun pinches him, shutting him up. “Let him have a moment,” he whispers, and Junmyeon nods, swallowing his words. 

Finally, Jongdae peels himself away. Face white, he climbs back into the car. “We need to get back to camp, now,” he says, pressing his lips together. 

There’s a distant roar behind them, and Baekhyun glances out the rearview mirror to see that the second monster horde has caught up with them. 

“Aye aye, captain,” Baekhyun says, complete with a mock salute. Wrenching the car out of park, he floors it, racing through the cobbled streets of the small town and no doubt traumatizing some little old ladies. Turning right, they skid onto the highway ramp towards Long Island. Baekhyun swerves between lanes, speeding back towards camp with a maniacal grin on his face all the way. Junmyeon looks like he’s about to faint, while Jongin is heaving into a paper bag Yixing whipped out. Even Jongdae looks vaguely green.

“I think we lost them,” Baekhyun declares, and a weak cheer goes up. 

Of course, not a minute later, Kyungsoo warns, “Harpies!” 

Baekhyun quickly rolls down the convertible top, cursing the fact that it’s not automatic, allowing Jongdae to stand up in his seat and fire off a few shots. He slows down a bit and tries to stop switching lanes to give him as steady a base as he can. Jongdae’s first arrow flies true, but the second harpy seems to actually have a few brain cells firing and keeps dodging.

Jongdae mutters curses under his breath with each shot he misses, until he finally gives up, loads a sonic arrow, and straight up vaporizes the feather bag. He slumps back down in his seat just as Baekhyun shoots onto the exit ramp, tires squealing. The closer they get to camp to slower he goes, until they’re cruising, top down, the summer sun bathing their faces.

Jongdae tilts his head up to soak it in, one hand dangling out the window. Baekhyun tries not to get lost in the view, in the way he dreamily looks up at the sky with half-closed eyes, how the wind ruffles his hair and how the dying light highlights his cheekbones and casts a shadow from his long eyelashes, turning his dark eyes a spectacular golden-brown. As they pull up to Half-Blood Hill, Baekhyun can almost pretend that they are regular teenagers out for a fun drive, and that maybe he and Jongdae would hang out on the hood of the car and kiss under the stars while breaking curfew.

That fantasy is broken when the rest of his teammates tumble out of the car, Chanyeol gasping, “Sweet, sweet solid ground,” and kissing the asphalt. 

“Drama queens,” Baekhyun sneers, standing up. “It wasn’t that bad.” He pats the car. “Luisito is great!”

Jongin responds by taking a few shaky steps and collapsing onto the grass. “Don’t want to stand up,” he mumbles when Junmyeon tries to lift him. “Everything’s spinning.”

Somehow they manage to get everyone up the hill, Baekhyun whistling a jaunty tune as he leads the way. This time it’s Connor who’s lookout, but he looks miserable. 

“Connor, everything good?” Baekhyun asks, stopping his whistling.

Connor scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Uh, Percy came back. And it’s...it’s not good.”

It’s never good anymore at camp. The mood effectively crushed, they all follow Junmyeon down the hill and to their respective cabins. It’s eerily silent, even among the Hermes campers. During dinner, Baekhyun stares down at the offering fire for a while, before throwing in a piece of chicken and praying,  _ Dad, wherever you are, I hope you’re safe. _

The next afternoon, they burn Beckendorf’s shroud, the chain link metal going up in golden smoke. And Baekhyun knows that now, they’re at war for real. 


	3. Baekhyun Doesn't Kiss and Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! this chapter is definitely the longest by far. i'm not sure how i feel about it since there are a few parts i'm unhappy with in the middle, but i hope you all like it!

The next three days are ominously quiet, except for the Apollo/Ares cabin feud, which seems to have ramped up. Baekhyun only catches the end of it, when Clarisse punches Michael Yew in the middle of his ferrety face and then immediately gets struck by fifty plunger-tip arrows. 

Still, there’s not a lot going on. Everyone is on edge--sharpening their weapons, stockpiling medical supplies, reinforcing their armor, cooking up some more Greek fire--waiting for the rumbing storm to break. 

When the call comes, Baekhyun feels strangely relieved. They all cram into the three delivery vans, driven by Argus and the two cleaning harpies (don’t ask him how harpies drive, he doesn’t want to know) and head on down to Manhattan for the end of the world. 

Turns out the center of Western civilization is the Empire State Building. Baekhyun would’ve picked something a little classier looking, but hey, it’s not his choice. He  _ definitely  _ would’ve picked different elevator music. Whoever decided on the 70s Sirius station as Olympus’s soundtrack needs to get fired. He gets a horrifying image of the gods getting down on the dance floor to “Stayin’ Alive” and barely suppresses a shudder. When the elevator doors  _ ding  _ open, he’s one of the first to escape, rushing away from the easy-listening disco.

He doesn’t get far, screeching to a stop as he takes it all in and mouth dropping open in awe. Floating steps hover in front of him, creating a path up through the clouds to Mount Olympus. It looks like something out of a fairytale, all gold and white buildings surrounded by verdant gardens blooming exotic flowers, smoke rising from the braziers that line the street up to the main palace. 

“It’s pretty incredible, right?” Jongdae says next to him, smiling wistfully. “Always takes my breath away.”

“You’ve been here before?” Baekhyun asks, incredulous.

“There’s always a field trip for year-round campers at the winter solstice,” Jongdae explains, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

“Right,” Baekhyun mutters. “Of course. Who doesn’t take yearly field trips to the seat of Western civilization?” As the demigods troop upwards, Baekhyun starts to get creeped out by how quiet it is. “Where is everyone?” he whispers. 

Jongdae shrugs. “They must either be in hiding or helping the gods.” They file under a giant marble archway, guarded by twin statues of Zeus and Hera. Looking up at Zeus’s face, Baekhyun shivers. He doesn’t exactly look like the nicest guy, with his furrowed brow and the scary look in his eyes, like he’s trying to incinerate you if you dare make eye contact. 

“Look!” someone cries out. “What is  _ that?” _

All of them freeze, looking towards the horizon and the blue lights streaking across the sunset towards Olympus from every direction. Every time they got close they fizzled out, not seeming to do any damage, but it didn’t help Baekhyun’s nerves.

“We’re being targeted,” Michael Yew mutters, further dropping the mood. 

Percy directs them to keep going, up through the unprotected silver and gold doors into the hall of the gods. Their footsteps click on the marble below and their armor clinks in the silence, echoing throughout the empty room. Just like at camp, there was a semicircle, this time of weird chairs three times Baekhyun’s height. 

As they draw closer, a woman’s voice says, “Hello again, Percy Jackson. You and your friends are welcome here.” A lady in a long, brown dress stands in front of the hearth, her eyes filled with fire. She’s not scary like Zeus, though. Baekhyun would be willing to bet she smells like fresh-baked cookies. 

Everyone else follows Percy’s lead and bows, except for Kyungsoo, who exclaims, “Mom!”, stepping forwards with his mouth stretched in a heart shaped smile. She rests a hand on his shoulder, looking down at him warmly. 

Baekhyun zones out for a second, trying to imagine if his father will welcome him like that. If he’ll clap a hand on Baekhyun’s back and say  _ I’ve been watching you. You’ve made me proud, like I always knew you would.  _ Probably not. “Did someone say something about a kiwi?” Baekhyun asks, tuning back in. 

“Achilles, stupid,” Junmyeon snaps from behind him. 

“Oh, right.” Baekhyun drifts off again, his ADHD brain bored by the mention of long-dead heroes and Kyungsoo’s mom rattling off ominous warnings. Instead, he looks up at the ceiling and the stars painted on it, mouthing the names of the constellations as he sketches out the connecting lines. 

Then a new voice echoes throughout the space, and Baekhyun feels every single molecule in his body vibrate, drawn to that presence. “We know what you need,” a man’s voice declares, and another god shimmers into place next to Hestia. He looks young, with sly, elvish features and curly hair. He wore a fighter pilot’s suit with little wings fluttering on the helmet and long black boots laced up, a staff with two snakes intertwined tucked in the crook of his arm. Baekhyun swears one of the snakes gives him a lazy wink. 

Hestia disappears after placing a kiss on Kyungsoo’s brow, leaving only Hermes. Because that has to be Hermes, right? There’s no one else it could be. 

Baekhyun strains forward, trying to get the best look at his dad as he can. He can see himself in the upward tilt of his nose, in the shape of his upper lip, in the dexterous fingers that move restlessly along the shaft of the caduceus. All he wants is a smile, something to let Baekhyun know that his dad recognizes him, but then Annabeth is asking Connor and Travis to sweep the city’s defenses with the rest of the demigods. Baekhyun wants to scream. 

Jongdae, perceptive as ever, lays a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s okay. Godly parents aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Don’t get me wrong, my dad’s a pretty cool guy, but he feels more like a freshman year college roommate than, you know, a dad. Besides, he’s probably just stressed. I’ve heard Hermes is a pretty good godly parent, all things considering. I’m sure you’ll get to meet him properly after this is over.”

“If we survive,” Baekhyun grumbles, half heartedly poking at a ward to make sure it’s doing alright. 

“Don’t worry, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says reassuringly, sending a blinding grin his way. “I’ll make sure you do.”

“Uh, guys?” Travis says. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

Baekhyun and Jongdae look at each other and nod before running after Travis. The other demigods have all crowded at the guardrail of a small park on the edge of the mountain, and are staring down at the city below. Baekhyun muscles his way forwards, skin once again pricking at how  _ wrong  _ everything feels. “It’s too quiet,” he says again to Jongdae. 

“It’s Morpheus,” Percy announces. “He’s put the entire island of Manhattan to sleep. The invasion has started.” 

Needless to say, the ride down from Olympus is far less cheery than the one going up. Even the cheesy 70s music seems a bit downtrodden. 

Annabeth uses her new magic shield thingy (man, Baekhyun has got to try that out sometime) to get a good look at what’s coming at them. It’s not good. There’s a whole army of nasties coming in from every side--rebel demigods, dracaenae, hellhounds, telkhines, giants, Cyclopes, fucking  _ dragons,  _ and to top it all off, a World War II-era Sherman tank. Because every evil military parade needs one of those. Everyone except the Ares cabin, may they always lose a sock in the dryer, has pitched in, but it’s only about forty demigods, give or take. It doesn’t seem like enough, not with Kronos and Hecate having effectively blocked off the whole island. Especially when Percy announces that they have to hold Manhattan by themselves. 

Percy starts assigning different cabins different points of defense. Baekhyun gets stuck with Connor and half of the Hermes cabin at the Manhattan Bridge, and is told they can’t loot or pillage. Party pooper. Jongdae’s with his siblings at the Williamsburg Bridge, Chanyeol at the Holland Tunnel, Junmyeon at the 59th Street Bridge. Everyone is spread out as thin as they can, and it’s still not enough. “You forgot the Lincoln Tunnel,” Junmyeon points out.

Then a girl calls out, “How about you leave that to us?”

A whole troop of girls marches towards them, outfitted in silver military gear and armed to the teeth. They even have their own wolves and hunting falcons. If Baekhyun didn’t hate Jongdae so much, he’d definitely be in love with at least one of these chicks. 

Their goth princess leader starts hugging all her friends while the rest of the Hunters of Artemis stare the campers down. Jongdae waves excitedly at one Hunter, who’s got silvery hair and a heart shaped face. When she catches sight of Jongdae, her face splits into a matching heart shaped grin and she bounces on the balls of her feet as she waves both of her hands back. A girl next to her, with an aquiline nose and almond shaped eyes, elbows her in the side and she pouts before schooling her face into a serious expression.

“Who’s that?” Baekhyun asks, trying to tamp down the possessive flare that erupts in his chest. 

“That’s my cousin, Jinsook!” Jongdae responds, still smiling. “I haven’t seen her since last year when they made a pit stop at camp. She’s been pretty busy roaming the country with the rest of the Hunters. I’ll have to catch up with her later.”

Jinsook sneaks in one last wave as the Hunters of Artemis head off towards the Lincoln Tunnel, and then they’re gone. 

“Baekhyun, get over here!” Connor calls out, preparing his half of the Hermes kids to man their post. 

Baekhyun hesitates, before grasping Jongdae’s hand in his and giving a quick squeeze. “You better stay alive, Kim. You hear me? I still have tons of pranks to pull on you.”

Jongdae looks him in the eye, gaze strong and steady. “You too, Baekhyun. I’m still waiting for you to successfully dump a pail of water on me.”

Baekhyun squawks. “Hey, how did you know that was me?”

Jongdae opens his mouth to answer, eyes crinkling, when Connor yells, “Byun, get your sorry butt over here!”

“You better go join your cabin,” Jongdae says, eyes flicking over in Connor’s direction as he lets go of Baekhyun’s hand.

Baekhyun hesitates for a moment, getting one last look at Jongdae with his quiver strapped on his back and bow in his hand, full Greek armor gleaming in the dying light, before turning and jogging to join his cabin. 

The run over to the Manhattan Bridge is pretty somber. Even the mischievous spark in Connor’s eyes has died out. They silently start setting as many traps and snares as they can, trying to slow down the invaders. Connor has them drag the cars into two diagonal lines, creating a V shape so they can funnel attackers towards them. And then they wait, crouched behind the line of cars.

Baekhyun has to keep wiping his palms on his armor every few minutes. How embarrassing would it be if he died because his sword whipped out of his hands because they were too sweaty to grip the hilt? 

Slowly, the sound of footsteps grows louder, and Baekhyun peeks over the top of a car to see an army of demigods kitted out in full Greek armor, marching under a black flag with a scythe. Figures that they get the humans. An arrow whistles over Baekhyun’s head, parting his hair, and he squeaks, hitting the ground. 

There’s explosions of Greek fire as the first line of attackers hit the traps the Hermes kids laid out. That buys them a decent amount of time, but all too soon they’ve cleared the traps and snares and continue their march forwards. Baekhyun flexes his hand, taking a few deep breaths, before stepping into the gap and meeting the first attacker in combat. 

Their blades clash together, the force making vibrations go up Baekhyun’s arm, but he grits his teeth and holds steady. After that, it devolves into the sound of metal on metal and the screams of the demigods injured, or worse, dead. Baekhyun stands shoulder to shoulder with his brother, the two of them taking down the invaders that funnel towards them. A lot of them just scale the cars, but it gives their archers a good shot from their vantage points on the suspension cables. 

It’s late in the night, well past midnight if Baekhyun had to guess, but the bridge blazes as if it was daylight, painting the scene in harsh, eerie green, with the occasional flare from a flaming arrow or spear. It’s straight out of a nightmare Baekhyun had years ago after watching the  _ Hercules  _ movie. Still, he keeps on fighting, ignoring the sweat pouring down his brow and the way his arms feel like lead.

A car erupts into flames, throwing Baekhyun backwards. His ears ring, and he shakes his head, trying to get up. Seulgi grabs him by the straps of his armor and drags him back behind another line of cars, screaming at him. Baekhyun can see her mouth moving, but it’s like the words come through underwater. Slowly, the words rise to the surface, until the bubble pops and sound crashes in at a deafening level. 

“Baekhyun! Baekhyun!” Seulgi yells, shaking him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Baekhyun gasps, staggering upright. 

Seulgi sighs in relief, wiping soot off her face with the back of her hand. “Thank Zeus.” She steps back, flashing Baekhyun a crooked grin before standing up and disappearing back into the fray.

Baekhyun stares after her for a moment, trying to keep track of her orange hair, but quickly loses it in the chaos. A new kid to the Hermes cabin, with dark hair and an upper body shaped like a Dorito, whose name Baekhyun can’t remember at that moment, cries out at that moment, staggering back with his hand clutching his shoulder. 

Baekhyun grabs him, shoving him behind him and taking his place so their line doesn’t break. “Go back to the edge of the bridge!” he tells him, gasping as he parries another blow. “Get that wrapped.”

The kid looks at him with wide eyes, before nodding and running away as fast as his long legs can carry him. 

Baekhyun turns back to look at the demigod he’s fighting, and his eyes widen as he meets vaguely familiar cat-shaped ones. “Hey, I know you!” he says dumbly, just barely avoiding getting beheaded by the kid.

“Well, I don’t know you,” the guy replies in a surprisingly high voice..

Baekhyun wracks his brain. “No, I do know you. You were in the Hermes cabin the first week I got to camp. Uh...Minseok!”

Minseok blinks, clearly surprised, before regaining his sneer. “Gold star. Look at you, deigning to remember the son of a minor goddess. You’re a real hero.”

“Why are you doing this?” Baekhyun asks. “We’re supposed to be family!”

“Some family.” Minseok’s voice is bitter. “Couldn’t even give my mom a proper shrine. None of us kids of minor gods got the respect we deserved. At least Kronos treats us like we mean something.”

“That’s your excuse for helping to end the world? Your feelings got hurt?” Baekhyun mocks, and it’s not the smartest thing he ever said, but hey. He isn’t one of Athena’s kids for a reason. 

Minseok snarls, choosing not to reply, but the speed and ferocity of his attacks increase. Baekhyun, already at the end of his stamina, can barely keep from getting turned into a demigod shish kabob. A particularly vicious strike sends Baekhyun reeling back a few feet, and Minseok grins. He mutters something under his breath, and Baekhyun feels his limbs all freeze.

“Wanna know who my mom is?” he asks. 

Baekhyun tries to open his mouth to respond, forgetting that he can’t move.

Minseok scowls. “It was a rhetorical question, dumbass. It’s Hecate, by the way. Goddess of magic. Which means that now you’re completely under my power and nothing can stop me from doing  _ this _ !”

Baekhyun never gets to find out what exactly “this” is (though he bets it was not an all expense paid trip to Bali), because at that moment Seulgi pops up behind him and clubs him over the head with the pommel of her sword. Minseok’s eyes roll towards the back of his head and he hits the ground in a metallic crash. Seulgi steps over him, making sure to spit on him, and heads towards Baekhyun, who’s currently spread out like a starfish on the asphalt. 

Using his eyes, he begs Seulgi to help him. Seulgi sighs, grabbing him by the straps of his armor and lugging him back towards the rest of the injured campers. “What would you do without me, big bro?” she chides.

_ Probably get disemboweled,  _ he thinks. 

She huffs. “Poseidon’s beard, you’re heavy. How much do you eat?”

_ It’s all muscle!  _ Baekhyun retorts in his head.  _ I’m a growing demigod! _

She heaves in another breath, dropping him inelegantly like a sack of potatoes.

_ Ow,  _ Baekhyun thinks mulishly as the back of his head cracks against the pavement.  _ Worst sister ever.  _

“I’m the best sister ever,” Seulgi sighs, crouching down and patting his cheek. “I won’t even draw a mustache on your face, no matter how much I want to.” She stands back up, telling someone Baekhyun can’t see, “Take him to the Plaza Hotel and get one of the Apollo kids to take a look at him.”

A pegasus nickers in responds, teeth clamping down on the back of Baekhyun’s shirt and air-lifting him back towards the center of the city. Baekhyun hates it. The sun is starting to rise, giving Baekhyun a view of the city as Kronos’s forces start to withdraw. It looks like shit--rubble is everywhere, Central Park is on fire, and the Williamsburg Bridge has collapsed. Little dots below indicate demigods making their way back to safety, carrying those that are wounded or those that didn’t make it.

When the horse finally lands on solid ground, a few Apollo kids run out to grab him, barely managing to swallow their laughter. Baekhyun tries to give them both the meanest glare he can muster. 

As they enter the lobby, Baekhyun hears a familiar voice cry out, “Baekhyun!”

Jongdae comes rushing over, concern etched onto his face. There’s a bandage wrapped around his forearm, but other than that he looks pretty good. 

“Looks like one of Hecate’s kids got him,” one of the kids carrying him says as they all get on an elevator. 

Jongdae nods, biting his lip. “Okay. I can take care of it. Can you just help me get him to a bedroom?” Baekhyun turns bright red, his traitorous mind immediately imagining him spread out on a bed and Jongdae hovering above him. Jongdae’s head pops into view, eyebrows knit together. “Baekhyun? Are you okay? You’re turning a weird color, but don’t worry, I’ll get rid of the spell soon.”

Baekhyun screams, the sound stuck in his throat, and Jongdae jumps into action. The Apollo kids hustle him down the hall to the nearest unoccupied bedroom and shove him on a chaise lounge, retreating as quickly as they can. 

Jongdae kneels by him, taking his hand and closing his eyes. He starts singing, quietly at first, before rising in volume. Every hair on Baekhyun’s arm stands straight up at the haunting, ancient tune, something he places as a hymn to Apollo after a few seconds. Baekhyun can only watch as a golden net begins to appear, hovering over his body. With each note Jongdae sings, a thread is cut, slowly disentangling the web of magic that’s keeping him immobile. 

Feeling starts in Baekhyun’s fingers and toes, the tingling slowly spreading up his limbs. Unconsciously, he starts flexing his hand, marveling at how his fingers wiggle at his command again. Mouth opening, he lets out a croak, and Jongdae’s song cuts off. 

Jongdae flings himself at Baekhyun, asking, “Are you hurt anywhere else? Do you need bandages? Here, take some nectar.”

Laughing, Baekhyun grabs him by the shoulders, stopping him before he can wrestle Baekhyun out of his armor. “I’m fine, Jongdae. Some loser demigod just got the jump on me, that’s all. I just need some sleep.”

Jongdae scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure.” Smiling shyly again at Baekhyun again, he grabs his kit and packs up. “I should go check if anyone else needs help.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look so good,” Baekhyun says. Jongdae’s face is grey with exhaustion, the bandage around his arm is stained red, and he’s swaying on his feet, but he still smiles down at Baekhyun, his eyes steely in their resolution. 

“I’ll be fine, Baekhyun,” he promises. “Now you need to get some rest.” He closes the door gently behind him, leaving poor little Baekhyun all alone in a 5-star hotel. 

Without wasting a second, Baekhyun chucks his helmet to the side and strips out of his armor, not even bothering with a shower before throwing himself into bed. The white sheets envelop him, and before he knows it, Baekhyun is out like a light. 

He wakes up a few hours later to a horde of demigods trampling outside his door, and blearily opens it. He figures a few hours of sleep is better than nothing, and steps out into the hallway in search of something to do. He doesn’t get far, though, because he spots Jongdae slumped against a wall, snoozing away. He’d clearly just finished healing someone because there’s still a partly unwound roll of bandages in his hand. 

Crouching down by him, Baekhyun pokes him in the shoulder. “Jongdae,” he wheedles. “Jongdaeee.”

Jongdae’s eyelids flutter. 

Baekhyun tries a different tactic. “Jongdae, can you wake up for me? You want to sleep on a real bed?”

Jongdae blinks, mouth pouting. At least he seems like he heard Baekhyun. Sort of.

“Come on, big guy,” Baekhyun sighs, hoisting Jongdae up and slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ve worked hard today, you deserve it.”

Jongdae hums in agreement, staggering as he tries to walk on his own. With some difficulty, Baekhyun manages to get the door to his room open again and drag Jongdae onto the bed. He sort of has to throw Jongdae onto the mattress, which doesn’t exactly work well given that they’re roughly the same height and weight. Jongdae is like an octopus, his arms winding around Baekhyun and refusing to let go. 

Baekhyun shrieks as he pitches towards the mattress, unable to stop his own forward momentum. “Jongdae, come on, you’ve got to let go of me,” Baekhyun begs.

Jongdae just starts snoring instead. 

Baekhyun struggles for another few minutes, but clearly all of Jongdae’s work with a bow has given him arms like iron bars, because all Baekhyun manages to do is turn around so they’re face to face instead of crotch to ass. At least that’ll be less humiliating when Chanyeol inevitably walks in on them. 

Stuck in place, Baekhyun looks at the curve of Jongdae’s lips, the tip of his nose, the way his eyelashes fan out on the tops of his cheekbones, and how his bangs are too long, nearly covering his eyes. At the smattering of moles on the side of his face. How his face scrunches up when Baekhyun’s hair tickles him. Baekhyun gets lost in him, curled against the comforting warmth of his chest, and then--

\--blinks awake to the flash of a camera and Chanyeol snickering.

“Aw, shit,” Baekhyun curses. “Gimme that.” He grabs at the camera but Chanyeol leans out of reach.

“But you’re so cute together!” he coos. 

Jongin’s head pops out from behind him, nodding furiously. “These are the kind of photos you’ll want years down the line,” he advises dreamily. “When you’re old and grey and sitting on the porch of your cottage in Cape Cod.”

“Come on, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whines, wiggling out of Jongdae’s hold and making an undignified leap for the phone. Chanyeol, the fucking tree that he is, just holds his arm up, far out of Baekhyun’s reach. “Don’t be a dick,” Baekhyun huffs, crossing his arms. 

Chanyeol shrugs, grinning toothily. “Sorry, can’t help it.” His expression sobers. “We came in here to wake you guys up. The sun is about to go down and there’s a huge army marching towards Central Park.”

Baekhyun glances towards the bed. “Are you sure we can’t let him sleep for just a few more minutes? He really drained himself today working double duty as a footsoldier and a healer. You know how he is, always pushing himself too hard.”

Chanyeol nods grimly. “Yixing’s the same way. He almost passed out before Kyungsoo locked him in a bedroom.” His eyes soften as he looks down at Baekhyun. “It’s not fair, but then again, none of this is.”

Baekhyun sighs, running his hands through his hair before gently shaking Jongdae awake. “Jongdae? Jongdae, you gotta get up.”

“Huh?” Jongdae sits up so fast he almost slams his head into Baekhyun's forehead. It’s only his speedy reflexes that save him from a nasty bruise.

“It’s sundown, Jongdae.”

Baekhyun can see the mask that slams down Jongdae’s face at his words. His spine straightens and his eyes get cold, his perpetual smile not warming his gaze like usual, and it makes Baekhyun’s heart ache. Jongdae hops out of bed, grabbing his helmet from where he had dropped it earlier when he was healing Baekhyun. That feels like a lifetime ago as the rest of them strap on their armor and head downstairs. Baekhyun shoves a bagel in his mouth and heads out the door, because he’ll be damned if he dies on an empty stomach. 

They split up again by cabin, and Baekhyun follows his siblings out to battle, maybe for the last time. Their ranks have thinned out, and Baekhyun knows instinctively that they won’t survive another day or two. He figures everyone must know, but it doesn’t matter. If they die, this world won’t be worth living in anyway.

The enemy forces crash over them like waves, forcing them to abandon their defensive positions quickly and retreat back to Midtown. Baekhyun runs around, using his teleportation to pop up behind enemy lines, grab fallen demigods and drag them to safety, and be wherever needs the most help, but it’s not enough. They keep getting driven back, closer and closer to the gates of Olympus. 

Chanyeol is next to him for a few minutes, grinning wildly as he swings his broadsword, tossing empousai around like rag dolls. Then he disappears and is replaced by a Hunter, her hair tied up in a pink bow and pretty face set sternly as she fires her last arrow before pulling out a silver gladius. Junmyeon stands next to him, strong and reassuring as he cuts his way through a pack of hellhounds. Then it’s Kyungsoo, who barbecues monsters while finding time to give Baekhyun a comforting smile. It’s all a blur as Baekhyun fights, ignoring his growing number of wounds and the exhaustion weighing him down. 

There’s a gap in the fighting, enough for Baekhyun to catch his breath before starting to run towards the next group of campers in trouble. A figure bleeds out of the shadows of an alleyway in front of him, and Baekhyun curses as he skids to a halt. “Aw man, not you. I don’t have time for this.”

“Seems like you have some pretty bad luck to run into me twice,” Minseok says, easily sliding into a battle stance. 

Baekhyun huffs. “Not sure how much luck has to do with it.” 

Minseok smiles crookedly at him instead of answering. He thrusts out his hand and inky darkness streams from it, turning the area around them so dark Baekhyun can’t see anything. He tries to hold his breath, shifting slightly to see if he can hear anything, but it’s no use. He’s in a complete vacuum. 

There’s a cold thrill running down his spine and Baekhyun moves instinctually. A silver blade arcs down where he was standing. It would have gutted him. Clearly Minseok can see what’s going on, because what follows is a flurry of blows from all directions. Baekhyun manages to stop a good number of them, whether through skill or pure luck, but the number of cuts keeps building: one on his arm, a nasty gash in his side, two on the back of his calves.

Then Minseok kicks him in the chest, sending Baekhyun sprawling on the ground and the breath from his lungs. His sword skitters out of his hands, leaving him truly defenseless. Baekhyun screws up his eyes, waiting for the inevitable death blow and hoping it doesn’t hurt too much.

Then he hears Jongdae scream his name, and his eyes snap open. “Baekhyun! Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun coughs, iron coating the back of his throat. “Jongdae, I’m fine! Stay back!” he pleads.

Minseok materializes out of the shadows, peering down at him. “Someone special?”

“No, it’s nobody,” Baekhyun retorts, trying to shove as much sincerity in his voice as he can.

Minseok looks down at him, lips pursed. “Anybody ever told you you’re kind of a bad liar?” Then he disappears, and Baekhyun hears Jongdae cry out in surprise.

“Don’t touch him!” Baekhyun screams, struggling to his feet. 

Minseok strolls back into view, dragging Jongdae along by the straps of his armor. “Oh, don’t worry, Baekhyun. I won’t hurt him. After all, he hasn’t done anything to me.” Baekhyun can tell Minseok means it too, and it kind of makes sense. Sort of. If he squints his eyes and inverts his moral compass. 

He drops Jongdae, who looks at Baekhyun, eyes wide and so, so scared. “Don’t worry,” Baekhyun tells him. “I’ll be fine. I promised you, remember? I still have to prove to you I hate you.”

Jongdae’s eyes fill with tears, and he bows his head. Something flickers in Minseok’s eyes at the sight. He seems sad, in a twisted, evil sort of way. “It must be nice to have someone care about you. But that’s why I have to do this. It’s the price we pay for equality. For respect.” He unsheathes his sword, hefting it, and draws back to strike. 

Baekhyun closes his eyes and hears Jongdae scream as the blade arcs down. 

That’s when the world explodes in light.

Minseok’s darkness vanishes like mist above a lake, burnt away by the sunlight. Baekhyun forces his eyes open, squinting in the direction it’s coming from. His mouth opens when he realizes it’s Jongdae, curled in on himself and glowing with the strength of a thousand supernovas.

Just as soon as it appears, it vanishes, leaving Baekhyun trying to blink away sunspots. Minseok has disappeared along with his darkness, leaving them alone on the corner of 5th Avenue and 30th Street, smack dab in the middle of Koreatown. Go figure. Staggering to his feet, Baekhyun makes his way over to him. Jongdae is swaying on his feet, gently smoking and grinning dopily at him, and Baekhyun sees red. “What were you  _ thinking,  _ you idiot! I told you to stay back,” he yells, before grabbing him by the sides of his breastplate and hauling him in for a kiss.

It’s not a pretty thing--there’s too much force and their teeth clack together--but that’s not the point. Baekhyun tries to express how scared he was, how relieved he is now, how grateful he is to Jongdae in the press of their lips. Jongdae seems to get it, if the little hum he lets out and the way his mouth curves upwards are any indication. 

“Sorry,” Jongdae breathes out, not sounding sorry at all. “I just like you too much to let you get killed.”

Baekhyun presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes in exasperation. “What am I supposed to do with you now, Kim?”

“Kiss me again?” Jongdae asks hopefully, and Baekhyun can’t suppress his laughter.

“Yeah, okay. I think I can do that,” he says, cracking an eye open. Jongdae grins at him, face grey. “After you get checked out by a healer.”

“Mm fine,” Jongdae protests, before his feet give out on him and he slumps against Baekhyun. Baekhyun lowers him onto the street carefully, pressing a hand to his forehead. It’s dangerously hot and his breathing is shallow. He needs serious help, and fast. 

Ignoring the pain in his side and chest, Baekhyun manages to get Jongdae upright enough that he can duck under and lift him up in a fireman's carry. Staggering under the extra weight, Baekhyun grits his teeth and starts walking towards the Empire State Building. By some miracle, they don’t run into any monsters, and reach the lobby unscathed. Well, no more scathed than they already are. The security guard has abandoned his post, so Baekhyun figures it’s okay to get in the elevators and head all the way up.

There’s so many demigods already wounded, and so many empty cots waiting for more. Apollo campers are trying to heal the worst-off, but it won’t be enough. He spots Kyungsoo a few cots down, a white bandage wrapped around his head and a cut on his cheek still oozing blood. Jongin is across the way, somehow with two broken arms in splints. Chanyeol is nowhere to be seen, and neither are any of Baekhyun’s siblings, so Baekhyun counts that as a win. 

Yixing and Will Solace take one look at them and immediately rush over. They help get Jongdae down and head off to where the rest of the wounded are, and Baekhyun helplessly trails behind. Laid out on a cot, Jongdae seems so much smaller and frailer, and it makes Baekhyun’s chest ache. Well, more than it already is.

“Baekhyun, what happened?” Yixing asks, hand smoothing away a furrow in Jongdae’s brow. 

Baekhyun tries to describe the situation as best he can, leaving out the whole kissing scene. By the end of it Yixing and Will are looking at each other incredulously, and at Jongdae with not a bit of awe. 

“What? What was that?” Baekhyun 

“Photokinesis,” Yixing says absentmindedly, placing a cool cloth on Jongdae’s forehead.

Baekhyun purses his lips. “In English?”

“It’s the ability to control light, Baekhyun. And it’s so, so rare I’ve never heard of anyone able to do it besides Dad and a few Titans,” Will responds, pouring nectar down Jongdae’s throat. “No wonder Jongdae passed out.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun responds dumbly, wincing as his side twinges in pain. Reaching around, he presses a hand against the wound, his fingers coming away sticky and covered in blood. 

“Baekhyun, you’re hurt!” Yixing gasps, turning his attention towards him.

“No, I’m fine,” Baekhyun protests, trying to hide the incriminating hand behind his back.

Yixing is a lot stronger than he looks, a trait apparently shared by all the Apollo campers, because he wrestles Baekhyun onto another cot without breaking a sweat. He pokes and prods, completely ignoring Baekhyun’s yelping and whining. “At least two broken ribs and a wound so deep it’s a wonder you haven’t passed out from blood loss, plus a mild concussion and numerous minor lacerations,” he informs Baekhyun before stuffing a piece of ambrosia into his mouth. “Eat up.”

Baekhyun chews and swallows as quickly as he can, before opening his mouth to demand he be let back into the fight. Yixing stops him by pinching his nose, making him splutter at the nectar that gets forced down his throat. 

“Look, Baekhyun. You’re in no condition to fight right now. If I sent you back out there, it would be like signing your death certificate. And I’m in the business of saving lives, not ending them,” Yixing says, pulling out a jar of silvery paste and spreading it on all of Baekhyun’s wounds. It’s freezing cold, and Baekhyun bites down on his lip, trying hard not to move around to move. “Plus, what do you think Jongdae would do to me if I let you go?”

Baekhyun turns his head to look at Jongdae on the cot next to him. Color starts suffusing his cheeks and his breathing evens out as Will sings a hymn to Apollo. As they watch, Jongdae settles into a deep, easy sleep, a gentle smile on his face. “He’d kick your ass back to China,” Baekhyun admits grudgingly, and Yixing smiles. 

“Good to know my healing abilities won’t be wasted on you,” he says to Baekhyun, before continuing to dress his wounds, humming a hymn under his breath. Baekhyun feels his flesh knit back together and energy slowly return as Yixing continues. The whole bone-reforming thing is a new one, though, and totally freaks Baekhyun out. 

When Yixing finishes, he’s pale and sweating. Will doesn’t look too good either, but both of them grab their bows and nearly empty quivers and head back out. Baekhyun wants to stop them, tell them to stay and rest for a moment, but he knows he can’t. They’re just stretched too thin.

Nightfall comes soon enough, and with it another stream of wounded demigods. Baekhyun runs around, trying to get water and painkillers to those who need it. They’re running low on nectar and ambrosia, but that doesn’t really matter since most people have ingested so much they’re on the verge of combusting. 

“Hey, Baekhyun,” a familiar, deep voice says, and a heavy hand rests on his shoulder.

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun gasps, turning and throwing himself at his friend. 

Chanyeol manages to laugh, muffling a groan in the back of his throat. He looks okay, all things considering. His hair is matted and sweaty, his face is smeared with dirt, and there’s dried blood crusted onto his armor, but he’s alive and walking. “Is Soo here? I didn’t see him on the ground.” Unspoken, Baekhyun hears his friend asking,  _ Is he alive? _

“Yeah, Kyungsoo’s here,” Baekhyun responds, gesturing over to his cot.

“Thanks, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, smiling down at him before hurrying over. Baekhyun watches as Chanyeol crouches down, brushing Kyungsoo’s hair away from his face. It feels intimate and private, even in the chaos, and Baekhyun flushes, turning away to give them their moment.

Baekhyun crashes against a Doric column for a few hours. His back hurts like a bitch when he wakes up, but he still staggers upright and goes to see what needs to be done. Yixing gives him a look, but Baekhyun just shrugs and follows a few Hunters to lay some traps around the two-block perimeter that’s been set up.

The Hephaestus cabin is out of Greek fire and the Apollo cabin and the Hunters are scrounging for arrows. So basically, they’re fucked. 30 kids, a few satyrs, and a bunch of centaurs drunk on root beer can’t really do a lot against a horde of monsters. 

And just to rub it all in, Kronos releases a drakon. Not a dragon, which maybe Baekhyun could deal with. A drakon. Older, meaner, scarier, and way better at killing pesky demigods. Baekhyun’s been through the drakon killing class at camp like everybody else, but there’s a vast difference between that and the real thing. 

Baekhyun is sure he’s going to die because the drakon accidentally steps on him, but thankfully (gods, Baekhyun can’t believe he’s saying that), Clarisse leads the Ares campers in time to actually do something useful and kill the thing, because of course there’s a prophecy about the children of Ares, etc etc. Then Clarisse--hold up--shows up? 

Baekhyun isn’t too proud to admit that he gapes as Clarisse stands up from Silena’s dead body after single handedly slaying the drakon and drives back the Titan army. He will  _ never  _ prank her again, partly out of respect and partly because he doesn’t want to find his head 50 feet from the rest of his body. As she drives her chariot back and forth in front of the Empire State Building, Baekhyun and the rest of the standing demigods catch a breather.

Percy disappears into Olympus to do some more hero stuff, and of course that’s when the army attacks again. Baekhyun doesn’t remember a lot of that, probably because a Hyperborean giant throws him into a wall. He’s still not sure if he hallucinated the skeleton army led by the Lord of the Dead or not. He also thinks he remembers that Minseok kid digging him out of the rubble, but with his blurry eyesight he’s again not sure. 

Still, at some point he manages to stumble upwards and push through to the elevators. Slumped against the metal, he watches the numbers tick up--400, 450, 500, 550--and then the ding that signals he’s reached the 600th floor. 

Ignoring the pounding in his head, Baekhyun tears through Olympus, looking for his friends. “Baekhyun!” he hears someone say, before Chanyeol is slamming into him and lifting him off the ground.

“Let me go, you big oaf!” Baekhyun laughs, tears streaming down his face.

Chanyeol drops him, and then Soo is staring at him, eyes crinkled and heart-shaped smile on full display as he throws himself at Baekhyun. Jongin is there too, and Baekhyun is careful to avoid his arms when he hugs him around the waist. Junmyeon swings by at one point, dragging along that sullen kid Baekhyun had saved on the first day, who’s looking at Junmyeon with a mixture of confusion and awe.

There’s just one person missing from all of this, and Baekhyun goes on his tiptoes, trying to find that familiar head of golden hair. “Anyone seen Jongdae?” he asks as casually as he can.

He must fail, because Chanyeol smirks. “I haven’t seen him around, but you might want to go check the medical tent. Apollo is doing some rounds.”

Baekhyun barely lets Chanyeol finish his sentence before he tosses out a “Thank you!” over his shoulder and starts pushing in that direction. Halfway there, he catches a glimpse of salt and pepper hair and the classic winged sandals out of the corner of his eye. 

Hermes is standing on the edge of the crowd, leaning against his staff and watching as a bier covered in green and white is carried away by three old ladies, lines of sorrow and regret deeply etched in his face. Baekhyun hesitates, torn between going over and leaving well enough alone. One of the snakes twists, eyes flashing as it sees Baekhyun. It shakes its head slightly, and Baekhyun gets the message:  _ Not now.  _ Biting his lip, he tears himself away and goes to find that person he  _ knows _ will be waiting for him. Who wants him.

When he gets to the medical tent, he looks frantically up and down the rows, but there’s no Jongdae to be seen. And then he hears Jongdae call out, “Baekhyun!”, the only warning he gets before his arms are full of him, all golden and bright and alive. 

Baekhyun stumbles back, hissing, “Ow, ow, watch the head,” but he can’t stop smiling.

“You really did a number on yourself, kid,” an unfamiliar male voice remarks, and then everyone parts, allowing a god who only looks a few years older than them in eye-wateringly bright golden armor and Ray-Bans to come through. He pockets the sunglasses, flashing them both a warm grin full of white, shining teeth. Baekhyun can see where Jongdae gets his smile from. “There’s a reason I don’t hand out that gift to just anyone.”

Jongdae exclaims, “Dad!” and the two immediately launch into a complicated handshake, complete with a weird bird call, dance moves, and some good ol’ fashioned miming of shooting arrows.

“Good to see you up and about,” Apollo tells Jongdae, clapping him on the back. “Will figured you might have just fried yourself into a vegetable. But hey, when you’ve got the god of medicine in your corner, anything goes.” He wiggles his fingers, and Jongdae chokes back a snort.

“Lord Apollo,” Baekhyun says respectfully, bowing.

Apollo looks him up and down, blue eyes burning with cold fire. The pain in his head lessens and his eyesight clears up, but Apollo still doesn’t say anything. Baekhyun feels like he’s just been X-rayed. Then he turns back to Jongdae and gives him a mock salute. “I’ll see you next winter solstice, JD. Gotta go take care of some godly business.” He winks, and with a flash of light, disappears.

“What did he mean?” Baekhyun asks. “Your precognition telling you anything?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Don’t know. Dad’s kind of a free spirit if you haven’t noticed. Could be a lot of things.” He turns in the direction he came from. “Don’t you want to go find your dad?”

Baekhyun hesitates, remembering the look on Hermes’s face as he watched the green and white covered bier pass by. “I don’t think right now’s a good time for him.”

“Well, now’s a good time to fill me in on how you saved the city,” Jongdae jokes, slinging an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders. “Man, I don’t remember anything about my whole ‘turning into a mini sun’ episode. Yixing told me I was literally smoking though. Did I miss anything important?”

Suddenly, the air feels too thick, like it might just crush Baekhyun, cracking his ribcage and collapsing his lungs. He can barely croak out, “No. Nothing much.”

“Huh,” Jongdae says, brow furrowed. “Oh well. I guess we should go find the others.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun manages to respond. “I think I saw Jongin earlier by the--um, by all the dead. I bet Yixing is there and Chanyeol and Soo.”  _ Who isn’t there,  _ he thinks bitterly. 

Jongdae’s face sobers, and he nods, lips thinning as he presses them together. 

Together, they head on over towards the entrance of Olympus, where a majority of campers are gathered, paying their respects to the dead. 

“ _ Oh,”  _ Jongdae breathes out, small and quiet and stunned. Rows of biers are stretched out, of demigods that fought on Kronos’s side and from Camp Half-Blood and the Hunters of Artemis alike. Too many of them are shining gold--his siblings. “We lost so many,” Jongdae says, voice thick with tears. “I know it was worth it, but we shouldn’t have had to pay this price.” 

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to say. He can only watch as Jongdae walks up to each, pulling back the cloth to whisper a final goodbye. Jongdae’s expression crumples when he sees their faces, because he’s Jongdae--he held them all dear in his heart. Each one of his siblings was special to him. 

Wiping tears away with the palm of his hand, he backs up. As the Hephaestus kids lower their torches onto the biers, he starts up a song, one of wordless mourning and remembrance. Slowly, the rest of the Apollo kids pick it up, layering and harmonizing into an eerily beautiful wail, one that makes the hairs on the back of Baekhyun’s neck stand up. Baekhyun thinks he sees Apollo through the smoke, back from whatever business he was on, staring down at the shrouds of his children with an unusually somber expression. 

One by one, the campers lock hands. Baekhyun feels Jongdae’s small, calloused palm slip into his, and convinces himself that one day, it will be okay.

The golden fire roars, and Baekhyun remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more left to go! *sweats because i busted out the first three chapters in less than a week and haven't opened the document since*


	4. Baekhyun Ruins Capture the Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it! did i bust this out in a panicked fever dream? maybe! is it cheesy? cliche? hopefully heartwarming despite its flaws? all that and more!
> 
> you might have noticed the chapter count go up, and a few new pairings get added ;3 read the note at the end to find out more!

The whole ride back to Camp Half-Blood, the words keep running through Baekhyun’s mind:  _ Did I miss anything important? _

Jongdae is passed out on his shoulder, his big head so heavy Baekhyun feels like his bones are about to cave in. He wants to push Jongdae off and curl up in the farthest corner of the truck, just as much as he wants to wake Jongdae up and tell him,  _ I lied. You missed something really important,  _ before tilting his face up and kissing him again. 

But what if Jongdae doesn’t melt into him? What if he pushes Baekhyun away and explain, painfully kind as only Jongdae could be, that Baekhyun’s his best friend and Jongdae can’t see him as anything else but he wishes he did because he’s so, so sorry. What if Jongdae forgot their kiss for a reason?

“Hey,” Jongdae whispers, startling Baekhyun. He’s staring up at Baekhyun with sleep-heavy eyes, the shadow of a smile on his face. “What are you thinking so hard about?” He reaches up, finger pushing against the furrows on Baekhyun’s brow in a vain attempt to smooth them out, and Baekhyun recoils.

Jongdae’s face flickers with hurt, and Baekhyun curses at himself. Shuffling closer to him, so close they’re pressed shoulder to hip, Baekhyun tries to loosen his muscles and relax. “I..” he starts, tongue flicking out to moisten suddenly dry lips. “I was thinking about your memory. Are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

Jongdae’s mouth twists downward. “Nothing concrete. Just a few sensations. Being really scared, and then this weird tugging in my chest? And then just feeling really, really hot, like during the worst heat waves in August. My dad said it might be for a reason, but who knows?”

The words slam into Baekhyun with physical force.  _ For a reason.  _ “Do you think you’ll ever get it back?” he croaks.

Jongdae shrugs, picking at the worn fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt. “Only the Fates know.”

“I guess,” Baekhyun mutters.  _ Stupid Fates. _

“Why does my Baekhyunnie want to know?” Jongdae teases. “Worried about lil ol’ me?”

_ My Baekhyunnie.  _ Baekhyun’s heart leaps into his throat, but he sees the out Jongdae has given and leaps for it, slipping back into the familiar teasing tone from before. “Of course. Want to make sure you’re in tip-top shape before I go back to terrorizing you. I promised.”

Jongdae frowns. “When did you promise me that?”

Baekhyun bites back another curse. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “It’s nothing important.”

“If you’re sure,” Jongdae says haltingly, brow creased.

“‘Course I am,” Baekhyun responds flippantly, this time being the one to reach down to try and iron out wrinkles. “Never doubt me, Kim.”

“I never do,” Jongdae says with a yawn, burrowing back into Baekhyun’s chest and returning to his nap.

Stunned, all Baekhyun can do is cradle him in his arms and try to figure out how to patch up the new Jongdae-sized hole in his heart to fit Jongdae-the-friend back into the space meant for Jongdae-the-boyfriend. 

“You and Jongdae seemed pretty cozy,” Chanyeol leers, nudging Baekhyun in the ribs as the campers unload.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, watching Jongdae laugh at something Jongin says in the distance. He catches Baekhyun watching him, and smiles fondly, lips curling upwards and gaze warm. “We were.”

As the summer wears on and the sun beats down on them, turning Baekhyun’s skin darker and lightening his hair, the camp rebuilds. It’s hard work, but it’s kind of nice to not think for a while. To get a break from pretending Jongdae’s his best frenemy and trading friendly barbs back and forth across the field. It’s the new normal, and Baekhyun is surprised how, well, normal everything becomes. Apparently, the gods keep their oaths and start claiming their children, because the Hermes cabin empties out and new ones are erected, filling with the children that stumble across the camp’s borders nearly every day. 

It’s not all the same, though. Baekhyun can’t tell if he wishes it was. It drives him crazy, how Jongdae acts like nothing happened, because to his knowledge nothing  _ did  _ happen. Baekhyun’s his friend, like he has been since the beginning, and nothing more. He doesn’t know Baekhyun can’t look at him without going back to the moment he had hauled Jongdae in and pressed their lips together, heart beating so loudly he couldn’t hear anything but the rushing of his own blood. How Jongdae’s lips were cracked and his breath stale, but they were still the best thing Baekhyun had ever tasted. In that moment, Baekhyun’s entire world rearranged around him, and then Jongdae took a sledgehammer to those fragile new foundations, smiling all the while.

It’s exhausting, this new normal. Baekhyun tries, for a while, but he feels like he’s coming unravelled, piece by piece and day by day. Jongdae’s arm around his shoulder starts to feel like a weight and every word he says to him is a new knife wound. He feels like that Atlas dude, the world weighing more heavily on him everyday. One day, it’ll crush him.

“Earth to Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks, waving a hand in his face, and Baekhyun blinks. He must look as dumb as he feels, because Jongdae laughs, fond exasperation written all over his face. “Did you even hear a word I said?”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun apologizes.

Jongdae stops walking, turning to face Baekhyun and stare up at him, eyebrows tilted up in concern. “Are you okay, Baekhyun? You can be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, Jongdae,” Baekhyun reassures him, taking a step back. 

Jongdae doesn’t stop though, closing the distance between them and  _ pressing. _ “Baekhyun, you’ve been...weird ever since we came back from the battle in Manhattan. You’re not yourself anymore. Do you need to talk about something?”

“No! No, I don’t and I don’t want to. Can you just  _ stop? _ ” Baekhyun pleads. “Please, Jongdae.”

Jongdae recoils, struck by Baekhyun’s tone. “If that’s what you want.”

Baekhyun feels like he’s going to cry, but his voice comes out icy cold. “Yeah, it is.”

“Alright,” Jongdae says quietly. And that’s that.

In that moment, Baekhyun feels his world tilting out of his grasp, almost crushing Jongdae before Baekhyun manages to hoist it back up again. But his strength is weakening and his palms are slippery--it’s only a matter of time. And Baekhyun can’t let that happen.

So Baekhyun stops running from Jongdae. He hides.

He spends more time with his siblings, getting to know those newly claimed and easing them into camp life with a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his eye, leading them on Hermes-brand reigns of terror. Baekhyun is proud to have hexed Mr. D’s pinochle cards to always play a losing hand, hotwired Argus’s van to play ‘La Cucaracha’ every time he honks the horn, and rigged the girl’s bathroom to blow confetti in their faces whenever someone flushed the second stall on the right, all with his merry band of newbies.

He avoids their shared friends--Kyungsoo’s accusatory stares, Jongin and Chanyeol’s confusion, Yixing’s gentle disappointment, and especially Junmyeon’s attempts to “talk it out”. Most of all, he ignores Jongdae. 

He’d memorized Jongdae’s schedule so long ago it’s easy to be in the places he isn’t. And when they happen to cross paths, Baekhyun learns to let his eyes slide over him like he doesn’t even notice him and brush past without so much as a second glance or a half-hearted wave. Even the surge of guilt at the sadness on Jongdae’s crestfallen face dampens over time to a dull ache.

What he can’t avoid, however, is Capture the Flag, and the Hermes cabin’s traditional alliance with both the Athena cabin and the Apollo cabin. Baekhyun considers falling on Clarisse’s new electric spear to get out of it, but Seulgi sticks suspiciously close to him in the hour leading up to the event and Connor and Travis practically frog march him over to the woods. His feeling of foreboding only grows as Junmyeon starts handing out assignments.

Junmyeon has a gleam in his eye that Baekhyun does  _ not  _ like, which is why he’s half expecting the next words out of his mouth. “Baekhyun, Jongdae, you’ll be guarding the flag together.”

Baekhyun pushes his too-big helmet up, enough that he can shoot Junmyeon a proper glare. “We will  _ not  _ be guarding the flag together.”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Would you rather be cleaning the stables? Because I have control over your chore schedule now.”

Baekhyun is so desperate he actually considers it for a second, before remembering with horror the last time he was forced to clean out the stables as punishment and the way he had ended up slipping face first into a pile of pegasii shit. It had taken  _ days  _ for him to rid his mouth of the taste, and his favorite pair of shoes were hopelessly ruined. “Fine,” he huffs out, trying to cross his arms despite the wide breastplate.

Junmyeon claps his hands together, looking far too smug for Baekhyun’s liking. “Great! Now that everyone’s happy, let’s go crush the Ares cabin for the fifth time in a row!”

A big cheer goes up among the assembled campers and they head down the path into the woods, Junmyeon’s blue plume bobbing in the distance as he leads them forwards.

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae calls out, running to catch up with him. They keep pace together as everyone disperses to their positions, shoulders nearly touching. Baekhyun feels like he might explode if Jongdae keeps bumping into him, the warmth of his skin radiating even through his armor. “Don’t worry, Baekhyun,” Jongdae chirps, smiling at him. How can Jongdae still look at him like that, with everything Baekhyun’s done to him? “It’ll be fun! And I promise I won’t bother you too much.”

“I know you won’t,” Baekhyun sighs, and Jongdae’s smile slips for a second before returning, twice as bright as before. 

Conversation effectively dies then. There’s nothing but the faint whoops of other campers in the distance and nymphs occasionally popping out of their trees to giggle at them. Baekhyun leans up against the rock they’ve jammed the flag into, pulling out his sword and aimlessly stabbing it into the ground.

“Careful,” Jongdae says, trying to sound lighthearted. “Knowing your luck that’ll get stuck right as some beefy Ares kids tries to run you through.”

Baekhyun chokes back a laugh. “You know me, baby,” he says with an exaggerated wink. “I’ll make the sexiest shish kabob this camp has ever seen.”

Jongdae laughs, bright and loud, easing the tightness in Baekhyun’s chest. “I’ll make sure to let everyone know at your funeral.”

“Promise you’ll say something nice in my eulogy?”

“Promise,” Jongdae says with a solemn nod. Baekhyun manages a smile, even as the tightness comes rushing in again. They lapse back into silence, Baekhyun flicking clods of dirt up into the air and Jongdae idly creating cute little kitten holograms that chase a ball of light. 

Baekhyun doesn’t like quiet like this. There’s too much tension, stretched so thin in the air Baekhyun could twitch and accidentally pop it. Sighing, he flops on the ground and starts cleaning the dirt off of his Celestial bronze saber.

Jongdae opens his mouth, but Baekhyun lifts a finger, effectively cutting him off. “Don’t say it. I know I should be on guard, but honestly, there’s no point. Percy’s on guard at the river again, so nothing’s getting past him.  _ If _ by some miracle someone does, there’s a dozen jumpy new Hermes kids ready to stick anything that moves. I think it’s safe to say we’re all good.”

Jongdae closes his mouth again with an audible click, fiddling with his camp necklace. “I was just going to ask if you come here often,” he says after a moment, and Baekhyun snorts so hard he almost clocks his head on the rock behind him. 

“What’s with you tonight, Kim?” Baekhyun asks. “You trying to get me killed?”

“By another camper or a cheesy pick up line, whatever works,” Jongdae replies glibly. 

Their banter is so easy, the next sentence just slips off of Baekhyun’s tongue. “Keep trying those lines, maybe they’ll stick again.” 

He freezes as soon as he says it, hoping Jongdae won’t notice, but Jongdae’s hunter hearing is way too good for that. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”

Baekhyun lets out what he hopes is a convincing laugh, but it’s clear by Jongdae’s wince that it sounds more like a panicked goat. “Again? Did I say again? I don’t think I did, you must have been hearing things.”

Jongdae stares down at him, arms folded. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a really bad liar?”

“You and Minseok both,” Baekhyun grumbles.

“Who’s Minseok? Actually, never mind, that’s not important. What did I  _ do,  _ Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks. 

Baekhyun pauses in polishing his sword before returning to the task, pointedly refusing to look Jongdae in the eye. 

“Don’t ignore me, Baek. You’ve been doing it for weeks and I can’t take it anymore!” Jongdae says, and shit, he sounds like he’s close to tears. 

Baekhyun heaves a sigh. “Look, you didn’t do anything, Jongdae.” He’s not lying...exactly. It was Baekhyun that kissed Jongdae, after all. “It was me.” As soon as the words are out, Baekhyun winces, rubbing extra hard at an invisible spot. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Does this have something to do with that chunk of memory I’m missing?”

Baekhyun tries to still his features, but Jongdae’s always been eerily good at reading him. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Baekhyun? I thought we were friends!”

“We’re not!” Baekhyun explodes. They’re not friends, they’re not enemies, they’re not boyfriends. They’re something in between all that, too transient for Baekhyun to ever get a good grip on. 

Jongdae stumbles back a few steps, eyes wide. 

“Please, just leave me alone,” Baekhyun whispers, curling in on himself. 

Jongdae takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and looks down at Baekhyun. “No.”

Baekhyun rockets off the ground. “What do you mean, no?”

“Just what it sounds like, Byun. I don’t care if you say you’re not my friend, because I’m yours. Nothing you did, whether I can remember it or not, will change my mind.” There’s fire in his eyes now, voice rising in volume with each word he says. “You can say you hate me all you want, because I’ll just ignore you. You’re one of the best people I know. You put others before yourself, you try to make the world around you brighter with every little action, you listen to what everyone has to say and try to make it better, and you try your best at everything you do. I  _ see you,  _ Baekhyun. And I’m honored to be your friend, even if you’re not mine.”

Baekhyun blinks rapidly, hoping the tears starting to pool in his eyes won’t slip down his cheeks. “Gods, I hate you,” he chokes out. “Making me cry like a loser. I bet Chanyeol is just waiting behind a tree to leap out and laugh at me.”

Jongdae reaches out with a tentative hand, hesitating for a second before he places it on Baekhyun’s arm. Baekhyun tenses, caught between the desire to melt into Jongdae’s touch and the panicky urge to shake him off and run away as fast as he can. 

“It’s just me, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says soothingly. “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not!” Baekhyun bawls, finally unable to contain himself. “It’s not, and I’m so  _ tired,  _ Dae, and it’s so  _ unfair!”  _ The new world Baekhyun has worked so hard to create and maintain crashes to the ground, shattering into a million little pieces. “You’re just so stupid perfect it makes me sick. You’re so  _ good _ , you know? Really, truly good. And like...bright? That doesn’t make any sense but you are! You radiate light and sunshine and you probably shit rainbows and your smile could easily power a mid-size country for a few months and you’re just amazing and it  _ sucks  _ because I’m not!”

Baekhyun wipes away enough tears that he gets a decently clear look at Jongdae, who’s just staring at him, weird little half-smile on his face. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” Baekhyun snaps, feeling himself flush.

Jongdae grins a little wider at that. “You don’t hate me at all, do you?”

“No,” Baekhyun admits, the word tiny and fragile. “I could never.”

Jongdae glows at his words, his inner light shining out and making him go all movie-star fuzzy at the edges. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he says, before he grabs Baekhyun by the hand and pulls him into his chest. Baekhyun barely has time to blink before Jongdae’s lips are pressed against his, just as warm as last time and far less chapped. 

His brain short circuits, but it’s clear his body knows what to do, because he grabs Jongdae by the waist and hauls him in, ready to kiss the living daylights (nightlights?) out of him. 

Jongdae makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but Baekhyun must be doing something right because Jongdae’s twining a hand through his hair and resting the other on the side of Baekhyun’s face, cradling his head with a touch so light it’s like he’s afraid Baekhyun might crumble to pieces. Baekhyun feels like he should be the one touching Jongdae like glass, but he still revels in the warmth of Jongdae’s touch and the soft puffs of breath he lets out.

Baekhyun feels like his whole world is tilting wildly off its axis as Jongdae grows bolder, having to fist his hands in Jongdae’s faded orange t-shirt just to stay upright. Jongdae nips at Baekhyun’s bottom lip, and his mouth falls open naturally, letting their lips slide together, gentle and languid and nothing like Baekhyun has ever had before. Kisses behind the school during the lunch hour just don’t compare. Jongdae makes Baekhyun’s whole world narrow to the warmth of his hands as they trail down to his hips, the curve of his upper lip, the tip of his nose brushing Baekhyun’s hips, the curl of his toes. 

Makes him realize that this is it. There’s nobody else for him. 

A branch snaps, making Baekhyun’s little ADHD brain freak out. He jerks back so fast he strains a muscle in his neck. “Ow ow ow,” he hisses, and Jongdae lets out a little shriek, small hands trying to find the source of the pain and soothe it away. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” Junmyeon’s voice says, and then he melts out of the shadows, side by side with that tall, slightly sour looking kid Baekhyun had saved that one day. Sehun, he thinks. Newly claimed son of Hades. “That took forever.”

Baekhyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jongdae turn so red. “Don’t tell me you were there the whole time?” he yelps.

“Yup,” Sehun drawls, popping the p as he drapes himself over Junmyeon. “Better than some of the reality TV I’ve seen.”

Junmyeon waves a hand. “That doesn’t matter. We got the flag like 15 minutes ago but had to hold everyone off from celebrating until you two fools figured stuff out. Which took way longer than expected, by the way. Chanyeol had bets going for under five minutes.”

“There was a betting pool?” Jongdae exclaims, exasperated, at the same time Baekhyun asks, “Wait who won?”

Jongdae whacks him without even looking at him, leaving Baekhyun whining and grabbing his shoulder.

“Who do you think? It was Yixing at a freakishly precise 42 minutes and 37 seconds,” Junmyeon replies smugly.

“Dad’s gift comes at the worst times,” Jongdae grumbles. 

“Anyway, Chanyeol’s leading a band of campers over to publicly humiliate you, so I would advise you to gird your loins and meet the foe head on,” Junmyeon advises. 

Jongdae already looks resigned to his fate, but Baekhyun does not vibe with that idea at all. “I think not,” Baekhyun says, twining his hands with Jongdae’s. Jongdae looks down, confused, but Baekhyun just winks at him. Jongdae relaxes, nodding his head slightly. 

Junmyeon takes in the interaction with a suspicious look on his face. “Byun Baekhyun, just what are you planning?” 

Baekhyun sketches out a mock salute, tightening his grip on Jongdae. “I’ll lie and say this was a pleasure, but we really must...dash.”

“Baekhyun, don’t you dare! We did not watch you for all that time to not--” Junmyeon starts complaining, just as Baekhyun pulls Jongdae into his arms and darts off. 

They don’t make it as far as he’d like on super speed alone (Baekhyun’s weedy little arms aren’t made to hold 173 centimeters of pure muscle), but Jongdae seems fine with just plain old running, giggling as they crash through the forest hand in sweaty hand. When he thinks they’ve got at least a good mile or two between them and the rest of the horde, Baekhyun finally gives up, collapsing against a nice birch and ignoring its nymph’s indignant cry. 

Jongdae joins him on the ground, panting and pushing his damp hair away from his forehead. “You know they’ll find us eventually, right?” he says when he gets his breath back.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun admits, lolling his head to the side so he can look Jongdae in the eye. “But at least it gives me more time to do this.” He lunges for Jongdae’s lips, intent on sucking his face off, but instead Baekhyun’s mouth meets Jongdae’s dirty palm. In revenge, he licks a stripe up one of Jongdae’s fingers. It tastes like dirt and salt, but it’s worth it to see Jongdae squeal.

“What was that for!” Jongdae whines, grabbing Baekhyun’s shirt to wipe the spit off. 

“I didn’t come out here to  _ talk,  _ you know,” Baekhyun counters. “So pucker up, buttercup.”

Jongdae just stares at him.

“Did...you come out here to talk?” Baekhyun asks hesitantly.

“Yes!” Jongdae exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “You can’t be my friend, then hate me, then be my friend, then  _ really  _ hate me, and then kiss me without an explanation, because that whole “hate is love” thing is bullshit. Don’t get me wrong, actually kissing you is way better than I’ve ever dreamed about, but we need to talk some things out first.”

“You dreamed about kissing me?”

Jongdae flushes, the tips of his ears turning red. “That’s not important.”

Baekhyun sidles closer, grin widening. “Did you  _ like like  _ me? Did you have hair braiding sessions with Yixing about your massive crush on me?”

Jongdae is still red, but now his lips are curled upwards in a shy smile. “Of course I liked you from the moment I met you. Who wouldn’t?”

Baekhyun opens and closes his mouth for a few seconds, speechless, before blurting out, “Really?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “ _ Yes.  _ Half this camp is in love with you, Byun.”

“But you liked me?” Baekhyun repeats. “Even when I was half dead covered in hellhound slobber?”

Jongdae shrugs. “What can I say? I have an eye for beauty.”

Baekhyun groans, slumping onto Jongdae’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you just  _ tell  _ me?”

“Why haven’t you just told me I did in Manhattan?” Jongdae counters.

“Not what you did, what I did,” Baekhyun corrects.

Jongdae sighs. “Fine, then. Tell me what you did in Manhattan.”

Baekhyun curls in on himself, peeking up at Jongdae over his knees. “Promise you won’t get mad?” he mumbles.

“Baekhyun, short of you chopping off one of my limbs or something equally ridiculous, nothing you could have done would make me mad,” Jongdae reassures him, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Baekhyun’s ear.

“OkayImaybekissedyouanditwasreallyawesomebutthenyouforgot,” Baekhyun rushes to say.

Jongdae blinks in confusion. “Say that again?”

“I kissed you,” Baekhyun mutters, resolutely looking at his feet.

Jongdae doesn’t say anything for a really long time, and when Baekhyun glances at him he’s staring blankly into the distance. He releases a deep breath, air whistling heavily through his nostrils, before meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. “Why would I not want to know that?” he asks patiently, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid, small child.

Baekhyun flails. “Well, I figured if it was important you would remember, so I asked you, and you said you didn’t remember anything and that your dad said it might be for a reason so I figured you didn’t really mean to.”

“You  _ ass,  _ I wouldn’t just kiss you for no reason! I was exhausted, not delusional!” Jongdae exclaims, exasperated. “Dad just meant that it might have been my brain’s way of dealing with an overload of stress and exhaustion, not that I suddenly wasn’t 100% homo for you!”

“Well how was I supposed to know?” Baekhyun whines, pouting. “And you said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“This falls under something ridiculous that I can definitely get mad about,” Jongdae says sternly, but his lips are already curling upwards. “Gods, you’re dumb.”

“That’s why you love me,” Baekhyun tells him, winking.

“Yeah,” Jongdae sighs, bending down towards Baekhyun’s lips. “I do.”

Eventually, their friends do find them and parade them down to the fire pit to good-natured catcalls and jeers, Jongin pulling a Polaroid camera out of nowhere and snapping a million pictures. But Baekhyun doesn’t care, not even when Travis and Connor lead the entire Hermes cabin in a truly awful rendition of “Kiss the Girl”. Because he’s got Jongdae next to him, eyes crinkled in happiness and laughing uproariously, the firelight turning his hair the color of spun gold and highlighting the shadows of his face, their hands locked together. And that’s more than enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive the infomercial beginning note--it continues here:
> 
> wondering what happened to minseok after the battle of manhattan? curious about how chanyeol and kyungsoo got together? trying to figure out how junmyeon acquired sehun? all these questions will be answered in the next three spin-off chapters I'm writing!
> 
> but anyway, the main arc is done, and i had a ton of fun. i've always loved pjo, so really this was just insanely self-indulgent writing that some people read for some reason. thank you so much for reading, and i hope you've had just as much fun revisiting this part of your childhood as i have

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are appreciated ;3
> 
> if anyone wants to you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/chenentine)


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